You Can Never Go Home
by blucougar57
Summary: Jack returns home after the Master is defeated, still struggling to cope with the memories of his year in captivity. Somewhat AU, because we know the Doctor NEVER hangs around...
1. Home Again

A/N: _I'm something of a glutton for punishment. This is my first Torchwood/Doctor Who fic, after spending a few years now lounging happily over in the Law & Order: Criminal Intent fandom. Now that I've finally discovered John Barrowman, though, the muse won't leave me alone.  
__I can't honestly say I know where this story is headed. I've decided to let the muse run with it, and see what happens. Although, I can say that the plot bunnies are starting to make themselves clearer to me by the day.  
__I am going to try and keep a low profile – I have three or four fics in my other fandom that have yet to be completed, but this one just wouldn't wait. I think my fellow fic writers would understand that. I hope they do._

Disclaimer: Torchwood and Doctor Who are the property of the BBC, and anyone else lucky enough to have their hand in the pie. I'm not one of them. Don't sue me – I have no money.

Rating: a strong T, for now. Descriptions of torture will follow in later scenes, as well as a good deal of emotional whompage on Captain Jack. Warnings will be duly posted.

NB: This story is set after the season three finale. My premise is thus: What if the Doctor decided he wasn't going to let Jack walk away? And what if Jack wasn't as well-adjusted after his year-long captivity as he appeared to be at the end of the season?

Reviews would be appreciated, as always, but try not to be too harsh.

I have now seen the final three episodes, and have edited the prologue accordingly. I'm ignoring the little incident with the Titanic crashing through the wall of the Tardis at the very end, but I've altered the prologue to take into consideration that Martha is no longer with the Doctor. Which makes it easier for me, really.

* * *

He jogged away from the Doctor and Martha, head held high and showing every intention of returning to the Hub. He ran, not walked, taking care not to give in to the temptation to look back, and see what he was giving up. What had, this time, been so freely and warmly offered to him by the Doctor. To look back now would have hurt far too much, and he'd already endured more hurt over the last year than even he was capable of withstanding.

He avoided the pavement block with the perception filter at the last moment, not because he didn't have the control in his possession to open it but simply because he felt surprisingly disinclined towards making such a showy entrance. Instead, he turned at the last moment and made for the tourist shack that served as a front for Torchwood's underground base.

As he drew nearer, his heart began to thump painfully in his chest as a thousand thoughts raced through his mind, and his quick jog slowed to a walk. As far as his team was aware, he would only have been gone for a short while, but he still wondered how they might receive him. After all, he had disappeared without so much as a goodbye, and then there was no knowing how their perceptions of him had been damaged by Saxon's public denouncement of the Doctor, Martha and himself as terrorists.

More than that, though, he found himself almost sick to his gut with nerves over the prospect of them discovering what had befallen him during the time he had been a prisoner of the Master.

For a long, painful minute, Jack stood outside the reception entrance to the Hub, staring at the door and torn over his desire to go in and a deeper instinct to turn and run. Instinct won, and he turned away from Torchwood Tower and away from the tourist shack, and headed instead for a sheltered spot some distance away. There, concealed in shadows and well-hidden from sight, but with a clear view of the two entrances to the Hub, Captain Jack Harkness sat down on the cold concrete, and waited.

* * *

The Doctor returned to the Roald Dahl Plass that afternoon, after saying a bittersweet farewell to Martha. He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised by her decision to stay with her family. After all, they needed her as much as he did, if not more. And to be fair, he had never really given Martha the consideration and attention that she deserved. Too long, he thought sadly. Too long he'd spent pining for Rose.

He didn't think Martha blamed him for that, but that didn't make it easier, or right. If he was honest with himself, he'd admit that he'd known even before taking Jack home that Martha would not be rejoining him.

A sigh escaped the Doctor as he strolled across the Plass, and back to the railing where he'd stood earlier that day, with Martha on one side of him, and Jack on the other. He'd known all right, but a part of him hadn't honestly cared. He still had one companion to look forward to travelling with… or so he'd thought.

Pole-axed didn't quite cover how he'd felt when Jack gently refused the invitation to go with him. He'd thought that Jack would have jumped at the offer to travel with him in the Tardis once more, to once again be a welcome guest… nay, a welcome companion.

It had been a great surprise to him that Jack had opted instead to return and take responsibility once more at Torchwood, but it had also been reassuring. After all, this present day Jack Harkness was a far cry from the carefree and often careless man of times past. He was a different man altogether, the Doctor mused, and definitely a better one for it.

The Doctor leaned against the railing, recalling the leaden feeling in the pit of his stomach as he'd watched Jack trot away towards the Torchwood hub, and couldn't help but wonder whether that feeling was anything like what Jack had felt on board the Game station, when he'd had to stand there and watch the Tardis disappearing before his eyes. Almost immediately, the Doctor rejected that comparison. He knew well enough that whatever strange, mixed emotions he had experienced that morning watching Jack leave could not hold a candle to the anguish that Jack must have suffered at being abandoned like that.

Sighing again, he pushed himself away from the railing and turned, intending to head back to the Tardis. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he almost didn't notice the figure that sat in the shadows on the ground some distance away, his greatcoat folded carefully around his powerful frame while staring away towards the Hub's public reception, by all appearances oblivious to everything else around him.

Curiosity was gradually replaced with concern as the Doctor observed the lone, forlorn figure. He wondered whether Jack had gone into the Hub, only to suffer rejection from his colleagues… or whether he hadn't even been inside yet. Watching as Jack lowered his head into his arms, the Doctor guessed that it was the latter; that he had never even made it inside the tourist shack that served as a front for Torchwood Three.

Normally, by this time, the Doctor would have moved on. He had never been one for hanging about in the aftermath. Finish the job and clear out fast had been his standard practise for many eons. He surprised himself, therefore, when instead of simply turning and heading back to the Tardis, he found himself walking across the concrete and over to where Captain Jack Harkness sat on the ground in a wretched heap.

* * *

He couldn't do this. After days… weeks… maybe even months of insisting to the Doctor that he was fine and that he was ready to go home and get back on the job, he had come very abruptly to the painful realisation that he was not ready at all, emotionally or mentally. The memories that he had struggled so hard to suppress now threatened to overwhelm him once more, and he didn't know if he could cope. Moreover, he knew in himself that he could not walk back into the Hub, and into the lives of his team, while he was still in such a raw emotional state.

A leader had to be strong in front of his team, and he refused to let any hint of weakness show. In his own defence, he knew his traumatised state of mind did not equate to being weak, but the principle was the same. To allow his team to see him broken like this would quite possibly shatter them, and he couldn't let that happen.

After a good couple of hours sitting alone in the shadows, he sensed someone approaching, and looked up just as the Doctor sat down beside him.

"You're still here," Jack said softly. It was less of a question than a surprised utterance. The Doctor appeared to be equally perplexed by his own presence, much to Jack's own amusement.

"Yes, I am, aren't I? Rather surprising, really. I'd normally be off again by now, wouldn't I?"

"So why are you still here?" Jack asked. The question came out sounding harsher than he'd really intended, but if the Doctor had noticed, he gave no sign.

"A few reasons, I expect," he answered in that same flippant tone that so successfully masked the very real concern he had for his friend. "Just as I imagine there are a few reasons why you obviously didn't go straight back into Torchwood."

His words struck a chord, and Jack looked away again, clearly distressed. When the Doctor spoke again, it was in an uncharacteristically gentle and caring tone.

"Come back to the Tardis with me, Jack. You're not ready for this. Come with me, and I promise you'll have as long as you need to heal."

It was tempting. Oh god, but it was tempting.

Jack shut his eyes, struggling to regain some degree of equilibrium, and remember why he'd refused the initial offer to stay on the Tardis.

"I need to be back here," he said softly. The Doctor looked over at the Torchwood Tower.

"For their sake?"

"No," Jack answered without hesitation. "For mine."

Jack felt a warm hand close over his own, and he looked down to see that the Doctor was now gently grasping his hand.

"Good answer," he said simply, approvingly.

"You're staying?" Jack wondered when the Doctor made no effort to get up again.

"For now," the Doctor answered. He smiled affectionately at Jack. "I have a patient here who needs his doctor."

* * *

They continued to sit there as the afternoon wore on, and dusk settled over Cardiff. Jack was apparently in no hurry to move, and the Doctor was in no hurry to make him.

"Thought they might have spotted me by now," Jack remarked quietly at one point. "I'll have to have a chat to Ianto about paying closer attention to the monitors. Never know what be lurking around."

The Doctor merely smiled at the remark, and said nothing.

Evening came, and then night proper fell, and still they sat there – the Doctor and Jack, side by side in comfortable silence.

And then, abruptly, Gwen and Toshiko appeared, stepping off the cement paving and into full view. Jack's breath caught in his throat as, for a fleeting moment, he thought they'd seen him. But no. They turned and headed away from him, oblivious to his presence. A soft sigh escaped Jack's lips that the Doctor initially thought to be disappointment. He realised an instant later that it wasn't disappointment, but rather relief. Jack was relieved that the women hadn't seen him.

"It'll be bad enough when I do have to face them," Jack said in answer to the unspoken question from the Doctor. "I just wasn't ready for it right now."

The Doctor regarded him soberly.

"Jack, are you ready for this at all?"

Jack ignored the question, watching intently as Owen appeared, exiting the shanty and heading away as well. That left only Ianto down in the Hub, and one was significantly easier to face than four… wasn't it?

Grimacing, he got stiffly to his feet.

"Time to go in there."

"Face them one at a time," the Doctor mused as he followed Jack's lead and got up as well. "There's a certain ape logic in that, I suppose." He slapped his palms together, startling Jack a little. "Well, let's go then, shall we?"

Jack stared at the Doctor, confused and perhaps a little bit hopeful as well.

"We?"

"Yes. I think I'd like a look-see at this Torchwood that you say you've reformed in my honour."

Jack had to smile, both at the Doctor's audible curiosity and at the realisation that he really wasn't going to simply run off and leave him again.

"I abandoned you once," the Doctor admitted. "It was wrong… though I'm not making any apologies for that… but I'm not going to abandon you again."

Jack sighed softly, feeling relief wash over him and warm him all the way through.

"Thankyou."

* * *

_tbc..._


	2. First Steps and a Warm Reunion

When he heard the hatch opening up that separated the Hub and the passageway from the shanty, Ianto assumed that Owen had forgotten something and come back for it. He paid no heed to the sound of footsteps, keeping his back to the hatch as he continued tidying the Hub. Whoever it was who had re-entered the Hub said nothing, and it wasn't long before Ianto sensed them standing behind him. Experiencing an odd mix of irritation and fear, Ianto tightened his grip on the metal dustpan in his hand, as though it could possibly double as some sort of a weapon, and swung around to face the intruder.

A moment later, the dustpan fell to the ground with a clatter, and his eyes went wide with shock at the sight before him.

"J… Jack…?"

Much later on, Jack would confess that he did what he did as much to keep Ianto from seeing the horror, grief and fear that he felt sure was all too visible in his eyes. At the time, though, he simply brushed it off as enthusiastically (or, perhaps, over-enthusiastically) greeting a special friend that he hadn't seen for a long time. Stepping forward, Jack threw his arms around Ianto and wrapped him up in an enormous hug, before claiming his lips in a long, possessive kiss.

From his vantage point just inside the hatchway, the Doctor watched in mild amusement and wondered whether the young man Jack was currently ravishing was actually gay, or whether he was simply too stunned by the rather fervent greeting to react. Either way, Jack was making the most of it, and the Doctor was even more amused to realise he felt a slight pang of jealousy as he watched.

When Jack finally drew back from Ianto, the younger man looked far too dazed to take too close a look at the captain – something which Jack cheerfully took full advantage of. He flashed his cheekiest grin, all the while aware of the amusement that radiated out from the Doctor behind him.

"Think he's happy to see me, Doctor?"

Ianto gasped and pulled back, suddenly realising that they were not alone in the Hub.

"It… Him…"

It was Jack's turn to be amused as the sight of the Doctor reduced Ianto to a babbling mess. The Doctor jogged forward and caught up Ianto's hand, shaking it vigorously.

"Pleasure to meet you. Ianto, is it? Heard so much about you."

Ianto looked across at Jack, still retaining a classic 'deer caught in the headlights' expression.

"You… have?"

"Well, actually, no, but I'm sure I would have if we hadn't been in the middle of a war."

"But… you… You're…"

"Jack, where are your manners?" the Doctor retorted.

"Sorry," Jack chuckled. "Doctor, this is Ianto Jones. He's the one who's kept me sane all this time. Ianto, this the Doctor. Yes, the same Doctor that Torchwood was created to fight against, but no. He is not our enemy. I'll vouch for him, anytime."

Whether it was the quietly and sincerely spoken affirmation from his leader, or the clear lack of threat from the odd, lanky man in the blue suit, Ianto felt his defences slowly going down, and he began to relax once more. No longer on edge, he returned his attention to Jack, and his confusion blossomed once more along with a million questions.

"Jack, where were you? You disappeared, and then everything just went to hell…"

"I know," Jack murmured, letting his gaze drop. "I'm sorry I wasn't here to help you all, but please believe me, Ianto. I _was_ fighting."

"_I'll_ vouch for that," the Doctor threw in, all signs of joviality gone in an instant.

"But… the Prime Minister…" Ianto stammered, recalling Harold Saxon's vicious tirade, during which both Jack and the Doctor had been publicly labelled Britain's worst and most wanted terrorists.

"Was the real enemy," Jack interrupted, and there was a hard edge to his voice as he spoke. "But it's over now. We won."

Slowly, the stunned look faded from Ianto's features, and he gazed at Jack with fresh eyes that suddenly saw far more than the Captain wanted him to see.

"What happened to you, Jack?"

"Isn't it obvious? I went with the Doctor…"

"No," Ianto cut him off firmly. "I mean, what _happened_ to you?"

Jack froze, not knowing what to say. His mouth went dry, and it took every ounce of inner strength that he possessed not to simply collapse right then and there as the weight of a year's worth of traumatic memories suddenly came crashing down on top of him…

* * *

_Another day, another torturer. That was the only thought that Jack could muster as he watched the Master coming with a weasely-looking man with a malicious smile, who carried an ominously large case. This one looked different to the others. He looked like a professional in the trade of torture._

_If that was true then Jack guessed the next several hours were likely to be some of the worst of his life, and he knew it would not end until he died – however briefly that might be. It was a prospect that he wasn't looking forward to at all, despite his apparent immortality. He was already severely weakened by the steady flow of tormentors determined to break him in body, mind and spirit. He might have been immortal, but there was still a limit to what his body could tolerate._

_The Master approached Jack, smiling pleasantly, but Jack had no trouble discerning the evil madness that lay behind that smile. Ever since discovering that he wouldn't… __**couldn't**__... stay dead, the Master had taken enormous delight in allowing all and sundry to come and take their best shot at him and, considering how many people, aliens and the like that he'd succeeded in pissing off in his time, there were no shortage of takers on the Master's offer._

_Looking at this latest character, Jack didn't think he recognised him, but that didn't necessarily mean anything, either. For all he knew, this was the brother of the cousin of the father of some young lad that he'd maybe loved and left a lifetime ago…_

_The Master abruptly backhanded him across the face, bringing back to reality with a painful jolt._

"_This is Mr Tiberius, Captain Harkness. He's a professional torturer."_

"_Figured," Jack mumbled. His voice was slightly slurred, and it took effort for him to focus. He was just so damned tired…_

"_He was most intrigued by the possibility of having someone to practise his trade on. Someone that he can torture and kill over and over again. Say hello to Mr Tiberius, Captain."_

"_Screw you," Jack spat, only to suffer another backhand that rocked his head violently to the side. _

"_Be nice, Captain. You and Mr Tiberius are going to be spending a lot of time together from now on."_

_The Master turned and stepped away, pausing only to speak in a low voice to the torturer as he methodically set up his equipment._

"_You can go as far as you like, kill him as many times as you like, but take care not to break his mind. He's useless to me as a vegetable."_

"_Oh, don't worry about that. And you might like to stay around for a little while. Trust me, the screams will be well worth it."_

_

* * *

_

"Jack! Jack, look at me! C'mon, Captain, snap out of it!"

Slowly, Jack dragged himself back to the present to discover the Doctor's face hovering above his own. A moment beyond that, he realised he was on the floor, on his back with his head resting on someone's lap. Ianto's lap, he realised.

_Shit_, he thought numbly. He'd collapsed after all. So much for the strong silent type routine.

He shut his eyes just momentarily as he gradually became aware of the feel of Ianto's hands – one on his shoulder and the other brushing gently and soothingly over his hair. Under any other circumstances, he would have been ecstatic to find himself in such a position, but right then the horrific memories of what had been done to him by the hideous Mr Tiberius were still too fresh in his mind.

He felt the bile rising fast in his throat, and was barely in time to roll away from Ianto before he threw up violently.

"Well, that was quite a colourful performance," the Doctor remarked dryly once Jack's retching eased, and finally stopped.

"Don't say it," Jack mumbled dully. The Doctor snorted loudly.

"Don't say what, Jack? That I'm positive you weren't ready to leave the Tardis? I think that rather goes without saying, don't you?"

"I'm okay…" Jack tried to protest. He tried to push himself up, only to find Ianto's arms suddenly around his shoulders, holding him down gently and keeping him wrapped up in a protective embrace.

"Take a minute, Jack," Ianto murmured, acutely aware of the involuntary shudders that were rippling through the Captain's body. "Try to get up straight away, and you'll probably only collapse again."

"I said I'm okay," Jack protested again, though he didn't fight Ianto's hold on him.

"Rubbish," the Doctor retorted. "If you were okay, you would not have collapsed like that." He frowned as he passed his sonic screwdriver over Jack's body, and it squawked loudly in response. "See? You're fluctuating all over the place."

Jack sighed heavily.

"Let me up, Ianto," he said, with some small degree of regret. Ianto relinquished his hold on the Captain with visible reluctance and concern. The Doctor regarded him with a flat stare.

"There you go. Ordinarily, you'd never pass up an opportunity to answer back a line like that."

Jack took the liberty of ignoring him, and got slowly to his feet. He wavered slightly, but shrugged off Ianto's attempts to offer support.

"I'm okay. Really."

"Are you?" Ianto asked, his tone telling Jack categorically that he didn't believe it.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Jack growled, on the verge of snapping at the young man who meant so much to him. Ianto sensed that he was treading on thin ice, but persisted regardless.

"They tortured you, didn't they?" he asked softly. Jack froze again for a good several seconds before walking away from both of them. He vanished into his office, pulling the door closed hard behind him.

"Yes," the Doctor confirmed quietly, drawing Ianto's attention. "He _was_ tortured, over the course of an entire year."

"And he survived it?" Ianto wondered. The instant the words left his mouth, he realised what it was that the Doctor hadn't said, and his fears were confirmed in the next moment.

"That's just the point," the Doctor said impatiently. "He _didn't_ survive it. They killed him, over and over again. I understand that towards the end, when Jack finally escaped, the enemy was really becoming very creative in their methods of dispatching him. You won't find any physical evidence on his body, though. The damage… the real damage, is up here, in his mind, and it's a long way from being healed."

"We were wrong," Ianto whispered, stricken with the realisation. "We were so wrong. We thought… We all thought that he'd just gone into hiding somewhere, until it was all over."

A dark look flashed in the Doctor's eyes.

"Jack ceased being a coward a long time ago. And for the record, I didn't want him to come back here. That was his decision. If I'd had my way, he would be with me on the Tardis right now, where I know he'd be looked after properly!"

Ianto looked around at the closed door of Jack's office, his heart pounding. It was disturbingly quiet within, and he silently hoped the Captain was all right.

"We should have known," he admitted. "No matter what we all thought of him, we've always known that Jack isn't a coward." He looked back at the Doctor. "Thankyou for bringing him back to us."

The Doctor snorted as he walked around, peering and poking at anything that took his curiosity.

"Don't thank me. I told you, if it were up to me, Jack would still be on board the Tardis. He isn't ready to be back here, having to deal with you lot and your pettiness."

Anger flared in Ianto's eyes at the Doctor's words.

"You aren't the only one who cares about him. We..."

The Doctor rounded on Ianto so hard and fast that Ianto stumbled backwards, catching his hip on the edge of Toshiko's desk and falling hard on his arse.

"Yes, let's examine that claim that for a moment, shall we? You all care about _so_ much, that you completely disregarded his orders and his warnings, opened up the Rift and unleashed Abbadon. You forced Jack into a position where he had to sacrifice himself to stop it!"

"How... how did you know about that?" Ianto whispered, horrified. "Jack... He wouldn't have..."

"Wouldn't have what?" the Doctor snapped. "Wouldn't have said anything? As a matter of fact, he didn't. But then, he didn't need to. I saw it in his own mind. I saw the memories, _his_ memories, memories that he still has to live with now. I heard his screams, and felt his agony as that monster sucked the life out of him, and believe me, that is not something you just get over. Do you really think someone... even a man like Jack... could go through that and not be affected so deeply that the scars might never heal? You stupid, ignorant little ape! And tell me, Ianto Jones, just how long was Jack dead for after that little debacle? Hmm?"

Ianto hadn't moved from where he sat on the floor, and all the colour had bled out of his face. He felt sickeningly light-headed all of a sudden as the Doctor's words began to sink in.

"A week," he whispered, recalling with nausea the sight of Jack lying in the Torchwood morgue, ice cold and so utterly lifeless. The Doctor nodded, the anger on his face truly a sight to behold.

"A week. Very caring indeed."

Ianto looked away, stricken as he was confronted by his own fallibility. A shadow fell over him, and he looked up to see the Doctor standing there, looking perhaps just slightly less angry before. As he looked up, the Doctor held a hand out to him. With some reluctance, Ianto accepted it and allowed the Doctor to help him up.

"Now, do you think we can put an end to the argument over who cares about him more, and concentrate on actually _helping_ him?"

Ianto nodded breathlessly, and the Doctor nodded his approval.

"Good."

* * *

They found Jack sitting in his office, reading slowly through a report that was sitting on his desk – a report that had been there from the time the Torchwood team had gotten back to Cardiff from the Himalayas.

"So this is what Saxon had you doing?" he asked without lifting his gaze. "Looking for the Abominable Snowman?"

Ianto could hear the smile in Jack's voice without needing to see his face.

"It's not funny, Jack. It was bloody cold!"

Jack finally looked up and, sure enough, he was grinning.

"A yeti," he said, his attention going to the Doctor. "Saxon sent them looking for a yeti!"

Ianto glanced around, and was mildly irritated to see the Doctor was grinning as well.

"Not as ludicrous as it sounds, you know," the Doctor pointed out. "Although, there aren't many left at this point in history, and those that are left are really rather shy. Perfectly hospitable, though, if you do happen to stumble across them, and they make a brilliant cup of tea. Speaking of which, could do with a cup right now. How about it, Ianto Jones?"

Visibly peeved, Ianto conceded with reluctance.

"Fine. Jack, did you want coffee? I'll put on a fresh pot."

"Thankyou," Jack murmured, realising he hadn't had a decent cup of coffee for well over a year.

"I heard that," the Doctor snorted. "I'll have you know, I make a _great_ cup of coffee."

"If you happen to come from the planet Ixilakxus," Jack shot back. "Your coffee tastes like flavoured dirt! You might be a genius, but you could never brew coffee. Now Rose, _she_ knew how to make a great cup."

"Yes," the Doctor murmured, his voice almost a sigh. "Yes, she did..."

"Sorry," Jack said softly. "That was insensitive."

The Doctor glanced around to make sure that Ianto was nowhere nearby, and then walked around the desk and crouched down in front of Jack.

"I want you to come back to the Tardis with me, Jack. This has gone on long enough. You aren't ready, and you bloody well know it."

Jack hesitated, and then reached out to cup his hand to the Doctor's cheek. There was a longing in the man's eyes that damn near broke both of the Doctor's hearts, but still Jack shook his head.

"I'm needed here. I can't turn my back on them. Not again."

"You stupid, stubborn ape!" the Doctor exploded, launching himself back to his feet and pacing the room in frustrated anger. Jack chuckled softly, although it sounded strained.

"Yep, that's me. A stubborn ass. I'll be okay, Doc. Maybe not straight away, but I will be, and floating around in the Time Vortex isn't going to make that happen any faster. I need to be busy. I need to have something to do, something to focus on."

"You really think we'd be floating about doing absolutely nothing? C'mon, Jack, you know me better than that. Can't stay out of trouble for two days, let alone two decades."

"I appreciate it, I really do," Jack insisted. "But this is where I need to be. Here, now. This is where I belong." He paused, and then added in a strained voice, "Even if I don't see you again."

The Doctor paused, his mind going back to Jack's revealing remark about the Face of Boe, and he couldn't help smiling.

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that. Anyway, I'm still not planning on rushing off. Unless you _want_ me to go...?"

"No," Jack said quickly. "No, please. I want you to stay. I... I need you to stay."

The Doctor smiled, taking a moment to affectionately brush Jack's hair back from his face and lightly stroke his cheek with his thumb.

"Then I'll stay."

* * *

Ianto walked back into the Hub from the small room where he'd been attempting to rest. It was a room that had effectively served as a second home to him virtually since the beginning of Torchwood Three. He'd decided to stay for the night in light of Jack's unexpected return and the presence of his equally unexpected companion, but tonight the room had provided him with precious little rest.

Now, he walked through the Hub, and was not entirely sure whether to be surprised or not to find the Doctor still wide awake, flitting from one workstation to the next, playing with one peculiarity after another. There was no sign of Jack.

"Can I help you with something?" Ianto asked somewhat tersely. If his tone bothered the Doctor, though, it didn't show.

"Fascinating place, this," the Doctor remarked. "Lots of brilliant technology. Of course, you shouldn't have any of it, you know that? If it weren't for the fact that Jack's in charge, I'd have to shut this place down."

Ianto frowned, but decided not to rise to the bait.

"Where is Jack?"

"Sleeping," came the simple reply.

"And you... don't?"

"Nope," the Doctor answered brusquely, without offering an explanation. Before Ianto had a chance to ask another question, a new sound broke the quiet – the sound of distressed cries that rapidly escalated into terrified screams. Screams, Ianto realised with horror, which were coming directly from the small room that adjoined Jack's office.

The Doctor was past Ianto in an instant, and through the office door. By the time Ianto reacted and followed, the Doctor was already in the tiny bedroom, crouching beside the long sofa that served as a bed. Jack was still asleep, but thrashing violently. The screams that tore from his lips were gut-wrenching, and made Ianto want to run as fast and far as he could. Those hysterical, terrified screams gave him a greater insight into what Jack had gone through than anything else could have.

He watched, frozen in place, expecting the Doctor to perhaps embrace Jack. Instead, he pulled out a strange looking device with one end that glowed bright blue, and passed it slowly back and forth over Jack's forehead. Gradually, the screams faded to sobs, and the sobs faded to trembling and then, finally, Jack was still again.

"He... I never knew him to sleep before," Ianto stammered, feeling hopelessly inadequate. The Doctor eyed him with an expression that seemed to convey curiosity and incredulity

"He's slept a lot since it all happened. Gotten a lot of sleep but hardly any rest."

Looking at Jack now, Ianto thought he could understand what the Doctor was saying. Even though he was no longer in distress and crying out in his sleep, there was still a visible tension affecting him. Jack was most certainly not at rest, not in any sense of the word.

"I've tried to convince him to stay with me," the Doctor said abruptly while he continued to crouch there, watching Jack with an affection that Ianto couldn't help but envy. "But he won't. He considers his responsibilities here to be more important than his own wellbeing. Stupid ape."

Derogatory though the last comment was, Ianto could hear a world of care and concern in the Doctor's voice.

"You really do care about him, don't you?" he asked softly. The Doctor stared thoughtfully at Jack's sleeping form.

"I've had a lot of companions over time, and I do mean a _lot_. Jack only travelled with me for a relatively short time by comparison, but he ranked up there with the best of them. I can't say it was because he was smarter than the rest, or braver… No, it was because he gave a liveliness to everything that he did and, by default, everything Rose and I did. He acted like there was nothing that could knock that cocky swagger out of him. He was alive in ways that I'd been missing for so long. He reminded me of how to have fun, in ways that not even Rose was able to. I could never tell him this, but it just about killed me to have to leave him behind like that on the gamestation. I had to regenerate, though, and neither I nor the Tardis had the time to adjust to what Jack had become. It was just too much, too soon. I can't say I wouldn't do the same thing over again, because I expect I would, but maybe… Maybe I could have left something there for him, something that would have helped him. Something that would have explained to him why."

"So, you're basically saying that you abandoned him," Ianto concluded as tiny pieces of the puzzle that was Jack slowly began to drop into place.

"A lifetime ago," the Doctor confessed, and suddenly Ianto wondered how much that abandonment had to do with Jack's powerful desire for company and almost constant physical contact. He'd never known anyone before who could be so aloof and solitary, and yet still crave physical companionship and the company of others.

Abruptly, the Doctor rose up.

"He'll sleep peacefully for a while, now. Why don't you make up a nice pot of tea, Ianto, and we'll have a chat."

* * *

Ten minutes later, Ianto found himself almost completely overwhelmed as the Doctor talked on and on. He'd known Jack had an incredible ability to talk non-stop, but this bordered on the ridiculous. How, Ianto wondered, could anyone say so much, without actually saying anything at all?

"So Jack was one of your companions?" Ianto finally managed to ask when the Doctor paused in his long-winded dialogue to sip at his cup of tea.

"Briefly," the Doctor confirmed. "Rose and I came across him in 1941 London. As a matter of fact, I believe Rose literally fell into him. Anyway, he'd led us there using a derelict Chula war ambulance, and he'd planned on conning us with it. He was going to sell it to us as a valuable artefact, and then blow it up before we realised any different. Except, this particular ambulance was full of nanogenes, and they escaped and started altering the population. I could have cheerfully killed Jack myself for that mess, but he redeemed himself. A German bomb was due to destroy the ambulance, and Jack stopped it. Saved all our lives, and nearly lost his own in the process when he teleported the bomb onto his ship, and couldn't get rid of it."

"That wouldn't have made any difference to Jack," Ianto remarked wryly, fascinated by the story and by the Doctor's broad opinion of the conman-turned-hero. The Doctor chuckled.

"It would have. He wasn't the Incredible Immortal Boy at that point in time. If he'd been killed, that would have been that. No more Captain Jack Harkness. But Rose and her guilty conscience talked me into rescuing him. So we took Jack on board with us, and he stayed with us until the gamestation, when…"

"When what?" Ianto pressed when the Doctor hesitated.

"When he sacrificed himself to buy me more time," the Doctor murmured. "When the Bad Wolf used the Time Vortex to restore his life, and in the process gave him unending life. When I became the coward that Jack used to be, and never went back for him."

Silence fell. Ianto stared in wonder at the Doctor, taking in his bowed head and saddened posture before speaking softly.

"We abandoned him, too," Ianto admitted with pain in his voice. "First when we opened the Rift, and second when we gave him up for dead. Gwen was the only one who refused to accept that Jack was truly dead. She sat with him for the whole week until he came back. She never stopped believing that he'd be all right. And… she was shattered when he disappeared."

The Doctor smiled, the thought passing fleetingly through his mind that perhaps Jack had his very own version of Rose in this Gwen; a woman who refused to let him be alone. He swiftly pushed that pain back, into the far reaches of his mind before the memories could take hold, and returned his attention to the present conversation.

"Gwen, hmm? Can't wait to meet her…"

* * *

_tbc..._


	3. Haunted By His Memories

When Ianto saw Gwen, Tosh and Owen coming towards the Hub the next morning, he didn't know whether to throw the doors open, or lock the place down before they could get inside. Any thoughts he'd had, though, were voided when Jack appeared behind him, observing the approach of the rest of the team with what seemed to Ianto to be a weary acceptance.

"Good, they're all together. Don't think I could deal with having to tell the same story three times over." He paused, looking down to find Ianto watching him with open concern. "Don't you dare ask me if I'm okay," he threatened softly, and Ianto smiled up at him sadly.

"Wouldn't dream of it, sir."

Jack couldn't resist. He leant down and pressed his lips to Ianto's in a brief but emotion-charged kiss, and was ecstatic when Ianto responded without hesitation.

"Where's the Doctor?" Ianto wondered as they reluctantly separated. "It's only that there may be some diplomacy required there. After all, he is_ the _Doctor, and this _is_ Torchwood."

"He's downstairs, having a look at Janet. He thought he might be able to communicate with her. I bet him ten quid that he can't."

Ianto smirked at the monitor as he recalled a snippet of information from amongst the Doctor's long ramblings from the previous night.

"The Doctor mentioned something interesting last night. He said that the Tardis will translate alien languages for anyone who travels with her."

Jack froze for several seconds, and Ianto watched with an amused smile as the captain's mind processed that information.

"Ah, shit… Ianto, you couldn't loan me ten, could you? I didn't exactly need money on the Tardis."

Ianto couldn't quite suppress an amused chuckle.

"Don't worry, sir. I've got it covered."

"My hero," Jack murmured affectionately, raising a blush to Ianto's cheeks. Any further conversation between them was effectively ended, though, as the internal Hub door rolled open, and the last three members of Torchwood Three walked in.

"Oy, Ianto," Owen called out, "what's with the blue police box thing topside? It wasn't there yesterday morning. Should we be worried, or what?"

Ianto glanced quizzically at Jack.

"Tardis?" he asked in a low voice, and Jack nodded in wordless confirmation. He straightened up slowly as they entered, waiting to see who spotted him first. To his surprise, it was Owen.

"Jack? Holy shit, where did you come from?"

At his startled exclamation, Toshiko and Gwen let out simultaneous gasps.

"Oh my god, Jack!" Toshiko cried out, running across to him and throwing her arms around him in a fierce hug. Gwen joined in, not waiting for Tosh to disengage herself, and Jack suddenly found himself propelled backwards into the wall by the momentum created by the two women.

"Sorry," Gwen gasped, laughing and crying at the same time. Jack, however, shook his head and held them to him tightly. He'd been starkly afraid of the reception he might have received upon returning home, and this was more than he had hoped for. Maybe, just maybe, they would forgive him after all for abandoning them.

"Where've you been, Jack?"

The question, not surprisingly, came from Owen, and Jack found himself looking into a pair of glacier eyes that gave away nothing. As the women moved away from him, Jack struggled to formulate the words that he had practised so often in private.

"It… It's hard to explain…"

"Yeah," Owen shot back scathingly. "I'll bet it is."

He started to turn away, but Jack wasn't done.

"Owen, wait. I said it was hard to explain. I didn't say I wouldn't try."

Slowly, Owen turned back to him, still frowning.

"You're actually going to try and explain disappearing into the thin air, and the Prime Minister naming you as one of Britain's most wanted terrorists?"

"Yes," Jack answered softly. For several long seconds, Owen stood there staring at Jack intently. Then, abruptly, he slapped his hands together.

"Right, then. Better brew a pot of coffee, Ianto. Got a feeling we're going to need it."

* * *

A short time later, they were all comfortably ensconced in the conference room with a fresh pot of hot coffee. So far, the Doctor had not resurfaced, and Ianto noted with quiet interest that Jack was making no effort to tell the others about him. He wondered whether that was primarily because Jack was still trying to work out in his own head how to break the news that the very reason for Torchwood's existence was now prowling around the underground base.

Jack kept his promise to try and give them an explanation and, over the next couple of hours he told them everything he could about the Year That Wasn't, although he was careful not make any obvious reference to the torture he'd suffered.

"So let me get this straight," Owen said when Jack finally fell quiet. "Saxon was really a Time Lord, and an evil one at that, and he captured you and the Doctor and kept you both prisoner for a year."

"You don't believe it," Jack said softly, but Owen shook his head.

"Au contraire, mate. I believe every word you've said. But seriously, Jack, are you saying that Saxon had you in chains for a whole year, and he never figured out your little secret?"

Slowly, Jack met Owen's gaze, and the look in his eyes sent chills down all of their spines. He said nothing, though, and eventually turned away to stare at the wall. The other four members of the team exchanged worried glances, and then Gwen spoke in a soft, encouraging voice.

"Jack, talk to us. Tell us what happened to you. Tell us what that son of a bitch did to you."

Jack's breath caught in his throat, an audible sound that raised the concern and curiosity of the others.

"I can't talk about that," he said and, though his voice seemed steady enough, none of them had difficulty in discerning the stress in his tone. "Not yet. Please give me more time."

"It's all right, Jack," Tosh assured him. "No one is going to try and bully you into talking about anything before you're ready. Just don't shut us out, okay?"

Jack swung back around to look at them once more, and the relief on his unusually pale face could not be missed.

"Thankyou," he murmured, sincerely grateful.

"So what about the Doctor, then?" Owen asked abruptly. "Do we get to meet him, or what?"

"Thought you'd never ask!"

All eyes turned to the door, and sure enough the Doctor was standing there, leaning comfortably against the doorframe. Once all attention was on him, he straightened up and strolled casually into the room.

"First time I've actually been standing in a room, and no one noticed me! Nearly two hours, and not a look from any of you! Although, granted, Jack does tell a pretty marvellous story. But really, I was just about ready to be insulted."

"Rather talkative, isn't he?" Tosh whispered, and Jack grinned, the shadows lifting all-too-briefly from his features.

"You have _no_ idea."

"I heard that," the Doctor retorted good-naturedly. "Now, Jack, aren't you going to introduce the rest of your team?"

"This is Owen Harper," Jack answered. "He's our medic, and a brilliant one at that. That's Toshiko Sato, our computer and technology expert. There's nothing she can't figure. And this is Gwen Cooper. She's the soul of this team… and she's kept me connected to humanity."

"Not to mention bringing you back to life," the Doctor threw in, causing Gwen to blush.

"I didn't…"

"Oh, rubbish, of course you did. Think about it, Gwen Cooper. What was the very last thing you did before Jack came back to life after that unpleasant little episode with Abbadon?"

If it were at all possible, Gwen went even redder, and she studiously avoided Ianto's gaze.

"I… might've… kissed him…"

"There you go!" the Doctor crowed triumphantly.

"You saying Gwen used the Kiss of Life on Jack?" Owen asked incredulously. "Bollocks…"

"Typical apes," the Doctor sighed. "Never want to accept what's right in front of their faces. Now, who's hungry? Me, I fancy chips. You're paying, Jack."

"Me?" Jack asked, and the Doctor grinned broadly at him in response.

"Yes. You owe me ten quid. Her name isn't Janet, although she does appreciate that you got her gender right. Oh, and Owen, she said she's sorry about attacking you, but that all those lights and people and all that noise were driving her crazy. And Jack, she doesn't blame you for shooting her. She said she understands you were just trying to protect your own. And as for where she came from… Well, as it's a parallel world, it's rather a moot point. She knows she can never get back there, but she would appreciate it if you would return her to her family in the underground, and she'll do her best to keep them from making their way to the surface in the future."

Jack groaned, and slapped a hand over his eyes.

"I think I owe you twenty quid for that. Hell, it's just about lunch time anyway. C'mon, everyone. My treat."

* * *

"Ianto, what has Jack told you?"

Ianto looked around at Toshiko slowly. He knew exactly what she meant, but decided to play ignorant out of consideration to Jack.

"About what, Tosh?"

"About what happened to him!" Gwen whispered urgently. "Surely he's told you something about it?"

Ianto looked across the way, to where Jack and the Doctor stood, engrossed in conversation as they waited on their orders. They made an odd-looking pair, and yet the Doctor seemed to be close to Jack in ways that so far he had only dreamed of, he mused with just the smallest pang of jealousy.

"Jack hasn't said anything about it," he answered truthfully, taking care to omit the fact that the Doctor had. He should have known better than to think he could avoid telling them anything at all, though, he thought ruefully.

"You're holding back on us, tea-boy," Owen said flatly. Ianto tried to look offended, and failed miserably.

"I'm telling the truth," he protested. "Jack hasn't said anything to me. No details at all."

"But the Doctor has," Gwen guessed. "This Master… The man that Saxon really was. He didn't just keep Jack chained up for a whole year and do nothing with him. He tortured him, didn't he?"

Ianto didn't answer immediately, torn over what to tell them. The truth was that he didn't know much – only what the Doctor had told him. He had guessed so much more, though, from the horrific nightmare Jack had suffered, and from his soul-wrenching screams of pain and fear. From that alone, Ianto guessed that to merely say that Jack had been tortured would have to be a very big understatement.

"Yes," he admitted finally, softly. "He had him tortured. And… he had him killed."

Tosh frowned at that.

"Killed? But Jack can't… Oh my god…"

Ianto nodded as realisation sank in with his colleagues.

"That's right. Jack was tortured to death over and over again for a whole year. Now you know, keep it to yourselves. I think he will tell us himself eventually, but we have to give him the chance to do it in his own time."

"Bloody hell," Owen muttered, "and I thought we had it bad in the Himalayas."

"The memories must be awful," Tosh whispered, tears brimming her dark eyes. Ianto glanced back to make sure Jack was not yet within earshot before speaking again in a distressed whisper.

"He had a nightmare last night. He started screaming. I… I've never heard anything like it. He was screaming so hard that I thought he wouldn't have a voice this morning."

"Shit," Gwen mumbled, suddenly looking ill. Ianto went on shakily.

"We have to keep it together, for Jack's sake. The Doctor… I heard them talking last night. He wants Jack to go with him when he leaves. He doesn't think Jack is ready to be back here with us. He thinks we'll only make it worse for Jack."

"Then we have to convince him that we won't," Tosh said.

"We can do this," Gwen said as firmly as she was able. "Now it's our turn to be there for him, instead of him always having to hold us together."

"Heads up, here they come," Owen hissed.

"You know," Jack said casually as he and the Doctor rejoined them, "it's a dead giveaway that you've been talking about me when you all go silent the moment we come back."

Guilty looks shared between the four only served to confirm Jack's words. Jack smiled to reassure them that he wasn't annoyed.

"Look," he told them as he sat down, "I promise you I will tell you all that I can, _when_ I can. I'm just not ready yet, that's all."

"We just want to be able to help," Gwen insisted. Jack nodded wordlessly, taking her hand briefly in his and squeezing it gently. As they fell to eating their lunch, though, the look on his face told them all that he didn't really believe they would be able to help at all.

* * *

"Mm, nice view, this," the Doctor mused as he surveyed the city from Jack's favourite vantage point that evening.

"I feel like I own the place when I'm up here," Jack confessed with a touch of guilt. The Doctor smiled in understanding.

"This _is_ your territory, Jack."

"Yeah," Jack whispered. "It is. So tell me… Why do I feel like I don't belong here anymore?"

As he spoke, his voice broke slightly, and tears glistened unshed in his eyes. The Doctor turned to face him, his expression grave.

"Because you belong with me. Come with me, Jack. Please, come with me."

"I can't," Jack said miserably, and the Doctor let out a frustrated shriek.

"You stubborn apes, you drive me up the wall!"

Jack smiled wanly.

"But you love us anyway."

"Yes. Lucky for you, otherwise I would have let you burn in the fires of your own arrogance a long time ago. Seriously, though, I really do…"

He trailed off as he happened to glance around in time to see the colour drain from his friend's face. Jack stumbled as his eyes glazed over, and only the Doctor catching him by the shoulders prevented him from falling.

"Jack?" the Doctor cried out in alarm. Jack stared back at him with a stricken gaze and, even as the Doctor looked on, the memories took hold and he sank into oblivion and torment.

* * *

_There was no doubt that the mysterious Mr Tiberius was a master at his profession. Jack had come to that conclusion within minutes of his first day of suffering the sadist's attentions. The agony he'd experienced had been unlike anything he'd ever known, and Tiberius was highly skilled at drawing the pain out for hours on end. Jack had actually been grateful when death claimed him that first day, if only because it meant a brief respite from the physical suffering. _

_How many days had passed since then, he had no way of knowing. They fell into a grotesque pattern where Tiberius would arrive – morning or night, Jack didn't know – and then there would be hours of pain before his heart would finally fail. Tiberius was always gone by the time he came back to life, and then there would be a few short hours of peace before it all began again. _

_Today, Jack couldn't help but notice a fresh enthusiasm emanating from his torturer, and it sent chills down his weakened body. A happy and enthusiastic torturer could only bode extremely ill for him. _

_"How are we feeling today, Captain?" Tiberius inquired as he set his case on the nearby table. Jack didn't bother answering. Tiberius seemed unperturbed by the lack of response from his subject, and when he spoke again it was in a low, satisfied purr. _

_"Fire," he whispered into Jack's ear and, although Jack kept his expression blank, he couldn't stop the first clutches of fear deep in his gut. Tiberius laughed cruelly. _

_"I can smell your fear, and you should be afraid. I doubt you can imagine what I've got in store for you." _

_"I don't know," Jack rasped. "I have a p… pretty wild imagination." _

_"Well, then, let me say this. I've always wondered what the smell of roasting human flesh was like." _

_And in that moment, Jack realised Tiberius planned on burning him alive. He jerked back as far as his chains would allow, panic written all over his face, and his tormentor laughed out loud in delight. _

_"Perfect, just perfect. I just need to put together a few items, and then we'll begin…"_

_

* * *

_

Jack came back to the present, jolted almost violently out of that memory by a stinging slap to the face. Gradually, his eyes focused, and he found himself staring at the Doctor. For several seconds, he couldn't string his own thoughts together, let alone put together a rational sentence, and when he did, it was just the one word.

"Ow!"

"Sorry," the Doctor apologised, not sounding the least bit apologetic.

"You slapped me," Jack said incredulously. "You actually slapped me…"

"Seemed like the thing to do. You were getting rather hysterical there, and I didn't particularly want you to go dropping over the edge. As resilient as you are, it just isn't really that convenient."

"Funny," Jack grumbled. He started to take a step, only to waver dangerously. The Doctor closed the gap between them in the space of a heartbeat, taking a firm hold of Jack's arms to steady him.

"Care to tell me what that one was all about?" the Doctor asked softly, when they were almost nose-to-nose. Jack shuddered, suddenly fighting against a powerful urge to be sick.

"You… you know that the Master brought in a different person every day to torture me… to kill me."

"Yes," the Doctor murmured. Jack steeled himself, and then went on tremulously.

"I don't know how far along it was, but one day he brought a new person in… a Mr Tiberius. He… He was a professional torturer. He… He burned me… He burned me alive…"

The Doctor sighed softly.

"I know."

Jack's pale blue eyes locked onto the Doctor.

"You know? What do you mean, you know? How do you know?"

"I was forced to watch," the Doctor admitted. "The Master seemed to get a real kick out of watching me watch you being tortured to death."

Jack stood frozen, his heart beating wildly. In the time that they'd spent recuperating in the Tardis, the Doctor had put a great deal of effort into convincing Jack to talk about what had been done to him. It nauseated him to think he'd relived many of those horrific moments when the Doctor already knew all the details.

"Why," he asked in a hoarse whisper, "did you make me talk about it all? If you already knew…"

"You think I encouraged you to talk about it out of some sort of morbid curiosity? No, Jack. You needed to talk about it. You still do. What I do or don't know shouldn't make any difference to you. It's what you need…"

"You made me relive it!" Jack exploded, his voice cracking from the stress. "All I want is to forget it all, and you keep making me relive it!"

"I'm sorry," the Doctor murmured, and even in his distressed state Jack was able to discern the genuine grief in the Doctor's voice. "I am so sorry."

Distraught, Jack sank to his knees, and the Doctor went down with him.

"I wanted to die," Jack said in between miserable sobs. "I just wanted to die, and not wake up again." He looked up at the Doctor, his vision blurred by the tears he was shedding. "It never stopped. I never got any rest. The… The only times I slept were when I died. I was never allowed to even sit down. I was just left chained there. No rest… Hardly any food or water. And the guards liked taking it in turns to beat me. I've never wanted to die so badly."

The Doctor reached out tentatively, and when Jack didn't object, he drew him in close for a warm, comforting embrace. It was all it took, and Jack broke down, sobbing heavily into the Doctor's shoulder.

"I am so sorry," the Doctor whispered again as he held Jack close. He wished dismally that Rose was there. She was so much better at this empathy thing than he was.

"It doesn't help any," Jack said in a muffled voice. The Doctor held him all the more tightly.

"I know. For the record, though, I'm glad you aren't dead."

A shudder rippled through Jack, and for a moment the Doctor thought he was crying again. It took him a few seconds to realise that Jack was, in fact, laughing.

"What's so funny?" he asked, trying not to feel offended. Slowly, Jack pulled back from him and wiped self-consciously at his eyes.

"You, acting so sentimental. Between Rose and Martha, you're becoming positively domesticated."

"Another good reason for you to come with me," the Doctor insisted.

"So what you're saying is that you need me to keep you from becoming a housewife."

"Mm, something like that."

Jack patted him condescendingly on the cheek.

"In that case, you have nothing to worry about. Trust me."

The Doctor smiled at him, then.

"Always have, Jack. Always will."

* * *

_tbc..._


	4. A Terrible Memory

**_WARNING:_** _This chapter contains implied torture. I've stopped short of going into any serious descriptions of what might have been done to him, but I have detailed some of the after-effects. This chapter borderlines an "M" rating._

* * *

Jack didn't know whether to be annoyed, embarrassed or touched when not only did Ianto refuse to leave the Hub that night, but Gwen, Toshiko and even Owen insisted on staying. With the exception of Ianto, who made no excuses for himself, the others remained under the pretence of having important work to do that absolutely could not be left until the next day.

They all knew it was rubbish, but Jack found that he just didn't have it in himself to argue with them. He knew what they were doing, and while he appreciated their concern, a part of him desperately wanted to tell them all to take a hike and leave him alone. The only thing that kept him from doing just that was the knowledge that to reject their concerns now would do irreparable damage.

And so he turned in without word of protest, offering up a silent prayer to a God whose existence he had not acknowledged for a long time that his sleep would be blessedly dream-free.

* * *

The Doctor watched surreptitiously as Jack disappeared into his small bedroom, visibly exhausted. It was a strange thing, he reflected, and it was something Jack had mentioned to him softly, away from Martha. Where before he'd needed only an hour or two of sleep at the most to re-energise himself, now he found he wanted to sleep all the time. And indeed, he had done just that as soon as they were back on the Tardis. He had retreated immediately to his own room and had slept for the equivalent of one Earth month.

The trip from the Valiant back to Earth had been virtually instantaneous as far as anyone might have been concerned, but that was the beauty of the time vortex. The Tardis had been suspended there in time and space for as long as each person on board had needed it to be. For Jack, that had extended up towards three months, although he guessed the Captain had no idea it had been that long.

Martha had expressed worry at the way Jack had virtually done nothing but sleep, but the Doctor had brushed away her concerns, telling her not to worry but avoiding saying why. The why of it was simple enough, he mused. After a year of never being allowed to rest, it should have been obvious that the thing Jack would crave above all else was rest. Unfortunately, his sleep was plagued with a never-ending stream of nightmares, and so while he did, indeed, sleep, the rest he so desperately needed still managed to elude him.

Being back home, within the sanctity of his precious Torchwood had done absolutely nothing to abate his night terrors, either, as the previous night had well proven. He wondered with some small degree of bitterness, how long Jack would go tonight before his sleeping mind returned to the scene of his year-long torment.

He was just considering following Jack, with a mind to keeping an eye on his friend, when voices drew his attention. Walking to the edge of the railing, he looked down into the heart of the Hub to see Owen talking abrasively to the women.

"Never knew the man to sleep before, and now he's going to bed at nine bloody thirty? Does anyone else see something wrong with this picture, or is it just me?"

"I agree, it's unusual," Toshiko conceded. "But perhaps we should be reserving our judgment until we know what he really went through."

Owen snorted.

"Like he's really going to tell us what Saxon did to him. This is Jack we're talking about, people. He's not exactly the most forthcoming bloke. Hell, we only found out about the whole immortality thing because I shot him in the bloody head, and he came back to life in front of us!"

"I knew about it," Gwen volunteered, though she didn't sound entirely comfortable voicing that admission. Owen glowered at her.

"Only because you were there when _Suzie_ shot him in the head. So we know Saxon tortured him? So what? The man can't die! How much damage is it gonna do to him?"

"Owen, you insensitive asshole," Gwen burst out. "He was tortured, and just knowing it should be enough for you."

"Well, it's not," Owen snapped. "And pardon me if I want to know the truth this time!"

"You want to know the truth?"

Owen, Gwen and Tosh all looked up simultaneously at the sound of the Doctor's voice as he descended down the stairs towards them. He looked angry, and all three of them found themselves cringing away from the force of his glare.

"You really want to know, do you? Oh, I wish I could show you, I really do. I wish I could bundle all of you into the Tardis, take you to the Valiant and let you have a real good eyeful… but I can't."

"What do you mean, you can't?" Owen asked with a dark frown. "You've got a time machine, haven't you?"

"It isn't just a matter of going into the future," the Doctor snapped. "That future now only exists in a parallel reality, and the Tardis can't travel between parallel worlds." He paused, seeming to reconsider his last statement. "Well, there was that one time, but that was just a fluke. Can't ever happen again."

"But you know what happened to him," Gwen said tentatively. "You know what was done to him, don't you?"

"Yes," the Doctor admitted without preamble. "And believe me when I tell you that you really would _not_ want to see it with your own eyes."

"How bad could it be?" Owen argued. "The man can't die!"

The Doctor stared at him, incredulous.

"Are you really this ignorant? Just because he can't die doesn't mean he can't feel pain. If anything, it just made it that much worse, because as soon as he came back to life, they'd just start on him all over again. Think about it, do you really want to see… oh, I don't know, maybe see him being burned alive? Electrocuted? I don't even have a name for some of the methods that were used on him, but you had better believe me when I say they were horrific."

"But you were there," Gwen said in a faintly accusing tone. "Couldn't you have done something to help him? Couldn't you stop it?"

"I was as much a prisoner as Jack was," the Doctor answered, the anger bleeding from his voice as quickly as it had surfaced. "I couldn't do anything to help him. Though he did more than his part to try and help me. By rights, Jack shouldn't have even been on that damned ship. He could have escaped along with Martha, but he chose to stay behind, even though he had to know what would happen." He sighed softly and shook his head. "I wanted to help him, but I couldn't even help myself. Everything he went through… Jack bore the brunt of the Master's rage for me. Maybe… Maybe that's why I'm still here. I couldn't help him while we were prisoners on board the Valiant, but I can now… if he'll let me. And as for the issue of sleeping, why don't you start using those ape brains of yours, and think! He went a whole year without sleep, so of course he's going to sleep now!"

"You mean to say he never got any sleep at all?" Tosh asked in disbelief.

"Oh, well, there were brief periods each day," the Doctor conceded. "But that was when he was… you know… _dead_. Other than that? No. Not at all." He looked around at each of them, but focusing his hard stare on Owen, in particular. "Try to imagine living one day to the next in chains, never allowed to sit down or lie down, and knowing every day will bring excruciating pain. Try to imagine knowing that, and only that, day in and day out, with no foreseeable hope of anything changing. Try to imagine living not only with that sort of physical agony, but also with the pain of knowing humanity is suffering because you couldn't stop a madman. Try to imagine knowing that everyone you care about may be dead, dying or enslaved, and there's not a thing you can do except to hope that the torture will kill you sooner, rather than later, so that for a little while at least, you can have some peace. Try to imagine _that_."

Silence met the Doctor's words.

"We're sorry," Gwen murmured finally. "We hadn't thought of it like that."

The Doctor looked up towards Jack's office and bedroom to see Ianto standing there, watching him with a solemn gaze. They locked stares for a long moment before Ianto turned and disappeared into Jack's room.

"At least one of you has," he retorted softly.

* * *

Jack was already in the early stages of a nightmare when Ianto came to stand in the doorway. He lay stiffly on the couch, fists clenched and body tense, with his face showing visible signs of distress. Soft moans issued from his lips and, even as Ianto watched, tears leaked from the corners of his tightly-shut eyes and trickled down his face.

Ianto stood in the doorway, transfixed by the sight of his boss and sometimes lover trapped in the sleep-induced memories of his year-long nightmare. He desperately wanted to go and wake Jack up, to save him from whatever nightmare his mind was currently trapped within, but he could not bring himself to move. Instead, he continued to stand there, just watching.

The moans grew louder as Jack began to thrash, as though struggling against some unseen foe. Which, Ianto reflected, he probably was.

"_No…_"

Ianto straightened up, frowning, as the incoherent moans began to form words, just understandable in between the soft, anguished sobs.

"_Please… No… I can't… No… Stop… Please… Please stop… It hurts…_"

Begging… Jack had been reduced to begging… It was almost an inconceivable thing to him, that the indestructible Jack Harkness could have been reduced to begging. But then, what was it that the Doctor had said? Excruciating pain, day in and day out. Unending torture, unending agony.

Every man had his breaking point, and Ianto wondered how long Jack had gone before he'd reached his.

The desperate pleas once more became incoherent moans, interspersed with heartbreaking sobs. Acutely aware that he could be placing himself directly in the line of fire if Jack awoke violently from his nightmare, Ianto nonetheless crossed the room to the couch and crouched down beside Jack. Hoping that he was doing the right thing, Ianto leaned down and gently pressed his lips to Jack's.

* * *

Jack didn't know exactly when the change happened. All he did sense, and only then at a very low subconscious level, was a slight shift somewhere deep within the fabric of his own mind. The images that haunted his subconscious were suddenly just a fraction less terrifying, just a little less agonising. Then, before his subconsciousness could begin to comprehend that change, real physical contact drew Jack up and out of the remnant of his night terrors, and back to the safety of the waking world.

He felt lips on his, a gentle and reassuring pressure. It was the most chaste of kisses, but even in his state of mind Jack could feel the emotion and tenderness that lay behind it.

Curiosity gradually overcame the lingering shreds of his nightmare, and Jack slowly opened his eyes.

* * *

It was a good several seconds before Ianto realised that he was being watched. Slowly, he came back to reality to find a pair of pale blue eyes watching him with an intensity that made him want to blush. Rather than jerk back like a guilty schoolboy, though, Ianto lingered for just a moment longer before finally withdrawing slowly.

"You were having a bad nightmare, sir," Ianto said simply by way of explanation. A small smile quirked Jack's lips but, tellingly, it didn't reach his eyes.

"You've got a unique way of waking me up."

"Not at all, sir. I seem to recall you doing the same for me… more than once, in point of fact."

"Ianto, you just kissed me awake. Quit calling me 'sir'!"

Ianto pointedly ignored the reproach.

"Are you all right now, sir?"

Jack sighed softly, resigning himself to not being able to break Ianto out of that particular habit. Instead, he answered the question quietly.

"I'm fine."

Ianto watched him piercingly, with a penetrating stare that left Jack feeling as though the younger man could see right through him.

"If you want to talk about it, I'm a very good listener."

An acute mix of pain and longing filled Jack and, all of a sudden, he wanted nothing more than to share the nightmarish experience with someone. No, he corrected himself abruptly. Not with just anyone. He wanted to share them with Ianto, and for a split second he very nearly did. But then, a fresh memory surged to the forefront of his mind, momentarily overriding his own traumas. He saw Ianto, bound, gagged and terrified. He saw him battered and bleeding, and one step shy of being carved up by a brutal and sadistic serial killer. He saw Ianto, who still awoke even now with a scream on his own lips.

Jack's breath caught in his throat, and anything he might have said died before it reached his lips. What right did he have to place the burden of his memories on Ianto, when the normally gentle Welshman was still trying to cope with his own horror memories?

None, he thought bitterly. He had no right at all.

* * *

Ianto wasn't sure exactly what had happened. All he knew was that Jack had appeared to be on the verge of sharing when something had stopped him cold. Then, even as Ianto watched, the protective walls went back up, effectively shutting him out. He knew at that moment that he would get nothing out of Jack. At least, not that night.

For just a brief moment he was angry, but then he shut that anger down before it could take hold in his heart. He recalled with no small amount of pain just how hard it had been for him after their encounter with cannibals, and how long it had taken him to be able to begin sharing the content of his nightmares with Jack. He remembered that, and knew he had no right or reason to be angry now that the situation was reversed.

As Jack watched, he saw a flurry of emotions in Ianto's eyes. First there was confusion, and then disappointment. Anger followed, and then… Then, there was a mixture of understanding and acceptance. Ianto wasn't going to insist that he talk about anything, Jack realised with a flood of relief.

Ianto saw the relief flood Jack's expression, and knew instantly that he was right. He could not force Jack into sharing anything before he was ready to, and nor did he want to.

"When you're ready to talk about it," Ianto told him softly, "I'll be here."

Jack felt a warm hand close over his own and gently squeeze, and he returned the gesture without hesitation.

"Thankyou," Jack whispered, sincerely grateful for Ianto's consideration and understanding. Ianto hesitated in responding. He wanted to stay and keep Jack company, and perhaps do what he could to keep the nightmares at bay for the time being. He remembered the many nights when Jack had lain with him, holding him and keeping him safe. He wanted to do the same now for Jack, but there was a great lump of dread in his gut that warned him against such a move. Instinct told him that such an offer would be soundly rejected.

It seemed to him that it was one thing for Jack to be the comforter, holding him and keeping him safe when night terrors came for him, but whether Jack could accept that comfort in return, Ianto had no way of knowing. Maybe, though, he could offer a compromise.

"I'm just going to tidy your office, sir," Ianto told him, as though spring cleaning at nearly ten o'clock at night was the norm in the Torchwood Hub. "You'll let me know if I'm disturbing you?"

A small, sad smile touched Jack's lips. He knew what Ianto was doing, and he was not going to object. Just knowing the younger man was close by gave him no small measure of comfort.

"Go ahead," he told him. "You won't disturb me."

Nodding, Ianto retreated back into the office and a moment later Jack could hear him moving around, making just a little more noise than he might normally have done.

Jack smiled again and, not for the first time, reminded himself that he needed to find some way to show Ianto how much he appreciated him. Comforted by the other man's close proximity, Jack settled back down and once again gave in to the exhaustion.

* * *

"So… What sort of torture did he go through?" Owen asked finally, winning himself disgusted stares from both the women and the Doctor.

"You don't give up, do you?" the Doctor asked. "What is it, some sort of morbid curiosity? What?"

"Look, it's nothing like that," Owen insisted defensively. "I'm only asking because really, how can we help the man if we don't know?"

"I suppose that's a valid point," the Doctor conceded grudgingly. "Although, it's not really my place to say…"

"Oh, come on," Owen growled. "You must've seen some of it."

The Doctor fell abruptly quiet, momentarily lost in his own memories. Yes, he had seen plenty, particularly at the times when the Master himself had taken a personal interest in adding to Jack's torment. Indeed, there was one time in particular that was indelibly burned into his memory…

* * *

_When he was pushed unceremoniously into the wheelchair, the Doctor initially had no idea what the Master was planning to do. Usually it meant a humiliating 'spin' around the control room, but this time the Master took him clean out of the room. He watched through half-closed eyes as they passed multiple areas of the Valiant, eventually descending down to the lower levels. It was when they had passed Martha's father as he worked in solitude in the bowels of the Valiant, that the Doctor finally realised where they were going, and at once his hearts leapt and his stomach sank._

_He hadn't seen Jack face to face for weeks, although he'd certainly seen him on a viewer numerous times – primarily because the Master had been more than a little anxious that he watch Jack being tortured. Now, as they rounded the corner, he found himself staring at a man whose features he barely recognised through the dirt and grime. The eyes, though… Never could he fail to recognise those pale blue eyes._

_Jack lifted his head slowly, as though to do so required more effort than the movement was worth. His gaze met the Doctor's, and it was all the Doctor could do to hold his gaze. This time, though, that discomfort had nothing to do with what Jack was, but rather with knowing that Jack was painfully aware of what was going to happen._

_At the sight of the Master, the Doctor could feel the despair rising in Jack, and he knew why. Over the last however many weeks it had been, the Master had had a steady stream of would-be torturers lined up to do whatever they would to Jack. Though many had no experience in the practise of torture, they were enthusiastic nonetheless to try their hand on 'the freak', even if all they ended up doing was beating him to death._

_There had been a limit, though, to what each of these wanna-be torturers could do. They could carry on until he was dead, and then they had to stop. The Doctor knew from the slim psychic connection he seemed to share with Jack that it was the one consolation he took from the situation. Most of those coming to the Valiant to try their hand did not have the skill to put a limit on their infliction of pain and to draw it out. So far – and this the Doctor knew from the Master's disappointed complaints – only three had managed to keep Jack alive beyond a couple of hours._

_Now, though, the Master himself had come to take a turn, and the Doctor could see the very real fear in his friend's eyes. It was a justified fear, because the Master was not likely to abide by his own rules. In the coming hours, Jack was likely to suffer over and over again at the hands of his captor._

_Then, as the Doctor watched in sick helplessness, a tired smile lit up his friend's face and he spoke with a cheerfulness that belied his grim situation._

"_Hey, Doctor, got yourself your own personal chauffeur! Way to go!"_

_Even in light of what they both knew was coming, the Doctor couldn't help but be affected by Jack's natural cheer, and he smiled in response. Behind him, the Master chuckled, but it was humourless in its sound._

"_That's very funny, Jack. Hadn't actually seen myself as a chauffeur, but I suppose you're right."_

_Jack's smile faded minutely. _

"_So what's the deal? Finally run out of people who want to hurt me?"_

"_On the contrary," the Master assured him. "You wouldn't believe the list I have. No, today I felt like trying my hand. And I want the good Doctor to watch, to see with his own eyes what he's responsible for."_

_Jack's smile had faded altogether by then, and when he spoke it was with a surety that could not be ignored._

"_No. He's not responsible for this. I made my own choices. He didn't make them for me. You're not going to put this on him. No fucking way."_

_The Master laughed openly, amused by Jack's fervour. _

"_You sound so sure of yourself. I wonder how sure you'll be by the time I'm done with you?"_

_Jack looked at the Doctor, who returned his gaze with an anguished one of his own, and tried desperately to convey his avid belief that he was not to blame. When he returned his gaze to the Master, it was to discover that he'd removed his jacket and tie, and was in the process of rolling up his sleeves, whistling gleefully to himself as he did so._

"_What are you going to do?" Jack asked._

_A cruel grin lit up the Master's face, highlighting the insanity in his eyes._

"_Everything."_

_

* * *

_

_An hour later, Jack was a bruised, battered and bloodied mess, barely able to stand on his own. And yet, through the haze of pain that eclipsed his entire being, he was aware of the Doctor. He could feel the crippled Time Lord's mind reaching out to his own, attempting to shield his consciousness from the very worst of what was being done to him._

"_What are you doing?"_

_Slowly, Jack dragged himself back from the brink of oblivion to discover the Master had turned his attention to the Doctor._

"_I don't know what you're talking about," the Doctor rasped._

"_No!" the Master thundered. "No, you're doing something! He should have been screaming by now! You're doing something to protect him from the pain, and I want you to stop it!"_

_Wheeling around, the Master fired his laser screwdriver into Jack's forearm. Jack groaned in pain, but that was all._

"_Case in point," the Master hissed furiously. "Now, stop protecting him, or the next one I try this on will be the lovely Tish. Understand, gramps?"_

_The Doctor looked past the Master to Jack. The younger man stared back at him through bruised and swollen eyes, and as the Doctor looked on in anguish, Jack's equally swollen and bloodied lips formed two simple words._

"_It's okay."_

_His hearts breaking all over again, the Doctor withdrew from Jack's mind, taking his protection with him. The consequences were instantaneous. Jack's body convulsed violently as a wave of devastating pain crashed down over him. An agonised scream shattered the otherwise still atmosphere, and reverberated throughout the lower levels of the ship._

_Not too far away, Martha's father froze in his work, sickened by the scream. Further along, Tish and her mother were also brought up short by the ghastly sound._

"_Is that…?" Francine asked hoarsely. _

"_Jack," Tish whispered, tears filling her eyes and rolling unchecked down her cheeks. "That bastard is torturing Jack."_

_In the caged area, the Master was whooping with delight while the Doctor bowed his head and didn't even try to stop the tears. Jack's screams rent his very soul, and there was not a thing he could do to help him._

_

* * *

_

_The Master was good. He was very, very good. By the time he finished nearly three hours later, Jack was hovering on the brink of death. Rather than go that final step and push him over, though, the Master adjusted his screwdriver and used it to heal the most immediately life-threatening injuries._

"_You don't get to die," he told Jack with a cruel glee. "Not this time. This time, you get to stay here and heal, however long it takes."_

"_No!" the Doctor burst out hoarsely. "You can't leave him like that!"_

"_No?" the Master retorted. "Watch me!"_

_He moved back, leaving Jack virtually hanging by the chains that were attached to his manacled wrists, like a broken and twisted scarecrow. _

_His legs had both been broken in multiple places, as had his feet. His pelvis was shattered, along with his hips. Every rib was cracked or broken, making each breath he took feel like fire in his chest and lungs. Both of his arms were broken, all the way down to his wrists, and his hands were little more than pulp after being smashed under a spring-loaded hammer, making hanging there by his wrists sheer agony in itself. _

_His collar bone had been broken, his jaw shattered and his skull badly fractured. He hung there, barely alive, and yet denied the death that would renew his body and end his pain._

"_Don't," the Doctor begged, finally tearing his eyes away from the battered and abused body of his friend. "Please don't leave him like this. Let him heal!"_

"_Oh, but I am," the Master assured him. He then spoke to the guard, who had been watching the proceedings with a strange sort of detached interest. "The prisoner is to have no visitors. He is to be left completely alone." He pulled a mock-sympathetic face at the Doctor. "To give him time to heal. You guards will take up positions around the corner. He is not to have anyone to speak to, or to look at. He is to be left completely isolated. Am I making myself clear?"_

"_Yes, sir."_

_The Master nodded in satisfaction, and began to pull the Doctor backwards, out of the cage._

"_Say bye-bye to handsome Jack, my dear Doctor. He's not going to see you again for a long time."_

_The Doctor could only watch, helpless and impotent, as he was taken away from Jack. The sight of Jack's swollen, bloodshot eyes staring at his retreating figure with confused despair and utter desolation was almost more than he could stand, and he broke down into heartbroken sobs. And all the while the Master only laughed_…

* * *

"Oh my god," Gwen whispered, ashen-faced.

"How long?" Owen asked, and the Doctor noted with grim approval that he looked as ill as the women. "Do you know how long it took his body to heal?"

"Not precisely," he answered sombrely. "All I know is that the Master deliberately broadcast his screams and crying over the ship's loudspeakers so that everyone could hear, and they went on for at least two weeks.

"And all that time nobody went near him?" Gwen asked in horror.

"He never laid eyes on anyone," the Doctor confirmed. "Even a robot was sent in to feed him, rather than Tish or her mother. It was the worst thing the Master could have done to him, and we all had to listen… When Jack's mouth healed… I think it was the first part that did fully heal… He begged for someone to talk to, to stay with him. He begged just to hear a voice. But the Master denied him even that. If there was anything that truly broke Jack during those twelve months, it was that. The total isolation. It just about drove him mad."

"Jack always did like having people around him," Tosh remarked tearfully, and the Doctor nodded in agreement.

"Yes, exactly. It hurt him very badly to be cut off like that."

"Well, no wonder he's having nightmares," Owen muttered.

"Shouldn't someone be in there with him now?" Gwen wondered. The Doctor smiled knowingly.

"Someone already is."

* * *

Ianto wandered aimlessly around Jack's office, shifting a pile of papers from one side of the desk to the other, only to then shift them back again. More than anything, he wanted to abandon this ridiculous charade and go in to Jack, but a lingering uncertainty held him back.

He believed he knew his boss as well as any of them could hope to, and he knew above all else that Jack would not willingly show weakness in front of his team. He gave comfort, reassurance, forgiveness… even love… in spades to all those around him, but accepting it in return? _That_ was truly uncharted territory.

Ianto paused in the middle of rearranging Jack's coat on its hook, as it occurred to him that it was suddenly too quiet in the other room. Only a couple of minutes ago, he'd been able to hear the slightly muffled sound of faint moans as Jack slept restlessly. Now, there was nothing.

Knowing better than to think that Jack was finally resting peacefully, Ianto walked over to the other room and peered inside. His fears were confirmed a moment later.

Jack lay on the couch, his body rigid from apparent shock, and his mouth locked wide open as though in a silent scream. The terror and agony that was virtually burned into his features tore at Ianto's heart.

"Jack," Ianto gasped as he strode over and collapsed to his knees beside the captain. "Jack, you have to wake up! Jack… Oh my god…"

It took him only a moment to realise that Jack was not merely in shock – he was no longer breathing. Starkly afraid, Ianto began to yell for help.

* * *

Out in the centre of the Hub, both the Doctor and the other three members of Torchwood all froze at the sound of Ianto's distressed shouts.

"Ianto?" Owen called back, heart starting to pound painfully in his chest. "What's wrong?"

"Someone, get in here!" Ianto shouted. "I think he's gone into shock. He's not breathing!"

It was hard to know who got to the room first, Owen or the Doctor; but it was Owen who won the battle for the spot beside the couch that Ianto had quickly vacated. There, the young doctor anxiously checked Jack's airway to ensure that nothing was blocking it. Once he'd assured himself that was the case, he sealed Jack's mouth with his own and began to blow air into the other man's lungs.

"C'mon, Jack, breathe!" Owen bellowed as he ceased performing mouth-to-mouth and began chest compressions. "Goddamn you, Harkness, breathe! Gwen, get over here! I need to keep up the compressions."

Gwen darted over, not hesitating to continue the mouth-to-mouth. Meanwhile, the Doctor stood back, watching the scene before him in grave silence as he recalled a conversation he'd had with Jack not so long ago.

'_Do you want to die?'_

_Jack studiously ignored the question, focusing his attention on the task at hand._

'_Ah, this one's a little stuck…'_

_The Doctor was not so easily dissuaded, though, as Jack should well have known._

'_Jack.'_

_Just a single word, spoken with an emphasis that the former time agent could not ignore. He glanced up, and when he spoke it was with mixed emotions._

'_I don't know. I thought I did_…_'_

"Stop it, both of you," the Doctor ordered them abruptly. Owen glared back at him, not so much as hesitating in the compressions.

"Are you out of your mind?"

"I said stop!" the Doctor snapped. "You're just wasting your efforts. He doesn't want to be resuscitated."

"And what, just let him die?" Tosh cried out incredulously.

"Exactly," the Doctor answered. "Let him have his own way… this time, at least."

"You are crazy," Gwen said hoarsely, and the Doctor rolled his eyes in visible frustration.

"Look, it's a moot point anyway, isn't it? He'll only be dead for a minute at the most. Just stop it. Let him be."

Slowly, Gwen pulled back. Owen continued the compressions for a few seconds longer before stepping away with an angry shout. Ianto moved back in and pressed his fingers to Jack's throat, searching for a pulse. He found it, but it was thready and getting weaker with every second that passed.

"He's gone," Tosh whispered shakily when Jack's features at last relaxed. Ianto nodded in confirmation.

"No pulse. He… He's dead."

"Not for long," the Doctor assured them as he consulted his watch. "Just give him a minute."

Sure enough, no more than a minute or two later, Jack abruptly re-animated with a wild gasp for air, and a convulsive jerk of his body. For a long second it seemed that he didn't know where he was, but then he set eyes on his team members, and a soft groan escaped his lips.

"Always go for the theatrical way of doing things, don't you?" Owen retorted as Ianto helped Jack up into a sitting position.

"Jack, what happened?" Gwen asked. "Talk to us."

He didn't answer immediately, instead looking past them to the Doctor and firing him a mildly threatening look.

"Don't say it," he warned, and the Doctor harrumphed indignantly.

"Really, Jack, that's just insulting. When have I _ever_ said 'told you so'?"

"Do you really want me to give you a list?"

Rolling his eyes again, the Doctor merely turned away. Jack continued to watch him for a few seconds longer before turning his attention back to his team. Before he had a chance to speak, though, Owen spoke instead.

"Listen, mate, if you're thinking that you aren't supposed to let us see a side of you that isn't the heartless bastard that we've all come to know and love, then you're wrong. We aren't going to fall apart because you've got issues, you know?"

Jack uttered a strained laugh.

"Issues, I like that."

"Seriously, though," Owen persisted. "You're always telling us to come to you if we have problems. That can go both ways, you know."

Jack looked around at each of them slowly, and though the look on his face was bitter, there was something else in his pale blue eyes. Something hopeful…

"How strong are your stomachs?" he asked abruptly.

"This is us you're talking to, Jack," Gwen threw back at him.

"Yeah," Owen agreed. "I mean, c'mon, we've watched you snog Ianto, after all."

Jack had to laugh then, despite himself. Gwen sat down beside him and gently grasped his hand in her own.

"We're not going to fall to pieces just because we can see that you're hurting, Jack. Credit us with more strength than that."

* * *

Standing back observing the scene, the Doctor could feel his hold on Jack slipping, along with his chances of convincing the captain to go with him when he left. With every word spoken by his Torchwood colleagues, the Doctor could almost physically feel the bond between them and Jack growing stronger. He could feel it and a part of him wanted to weep for the anticipated loss.

He was vaguely surprised at how much it hurt to realise that Jack really did not need him as much as he needed Jack. Trying not to let the bitter hurt through, he began to edge around to the door, intending to make his escape before anyone – particularly Jack – noticed.

* * *

Jack was on the verge of starting to talk when he suddenly realised someone was missing.

"Where'd he go?" he asked anxiously, starting up from the couch.

"Who?" Tosh asked.

"The Doctor!" Jack burst out. "Where is he?"

Surprised silence reigned. None of them had noticed him go.

"No," Jack whispered hoarsely, starting towards the door. "Not again. He can't leave me again…"

And then, before any of the others had a chance to say a word, he was gone, chasing after the Doctor once more.

* * *

_tbc..._


	5. A Story to Tell

A/N: _This is just a short chapter, but I'm updating anyway so that those who are reading this story know I haven't just written a few chapters and then abandoned it. I am still focused on this story, but it's November, and that means National Novel Writing Month is in progress. And unfortunately I can't make this my NaNo story because I began it before November._

_On the other hand, though, my NaNo story includes the Torchwood characters, so it will be posted here when it's done. I have to work on it solidly now, though, if I'm to finish the 50,000 words on schedule. I'm already about 7,000 behind, and I have some serious catch-up to do. But this story will be continued. I've already invested too much in it not to._

_

* * *

_

The Doctor sighed softly as he stepped inside the Tardis, helpless to stop the melancholic wave that threatened to drown him. He didn't blame Jack, of course. The reasoned side of him knew that the captain was far better off here, with his team. And, most importantly of all, they seemed to want Jack to stay with them just as much.

It was the impulsive, emotional side of him that he so regularly tried to suppress that wanted to go back, slap some sense into Jack and haul him off to the Tardis. After all, the rightness of having Jack as his companion was undeniable.

Here was a man... a best friend, in fact... who was not going to grow old and die as so many others had. Well, maybe grow old eventually, the Doctor conceded, but not for a long, long time. Jack belonged with _him_, and not with the humans who could barely comprehend the walking miracle in their midst.

Annoyed with himself, the Doctor tried to turn his focus to deciding his next destination, and was mildly bothered when all he could think of was to go eighty years into the future, find Jack and bundle him away in the Tardis.

He sighed again, flipping switches almost at random.

"How about you pick somewhere, old girl? Just... anywhere but here, and not a hundred trillion years into the future, either."

He smiled at the answering hum, and tried to take relief in the familiar grinding sound as the Tardis powered up and prepared to leave. The Doctor was just about to take a seat when he saw him.

On the monitor, there was Jack. In a scene spookily reminiscent of the one that had started the whole adventure, he could see Jack running towards the Tardis, a mixture of panic and determination on his face. For a split second, the Doctor nearly continued on with his intended journey, telling himself that Jack was better off left behind, with people who obviously cared about him, and that it was high time he moved on. He'd stayed far too long already.

He stunned himself, though, when instead of fleeing, he found himself shutting down the engines, and hurrying to the door.

* * *

He was going to miss him this time. Jack knew as he ran across Millennium Square that he was too far away to catch up to the Tardis before it left, and he was not going to make the mistake of grabbing hold of the outside again. Not that he regretted _that_ particular action, but deep inside he harboured more than just a little bit of guilt for everything that had followed as a result.

The one thing he had confessed to _no one_ – especially to the Doctor – was his increasingly strong belief that everything that had happened with the Master was ultimately his fault. If he hadn't grabbed hold of the Tardis, then they wouldn't have flown to the end of the universe. They would never have met with Professor Yana; Yana would never have discovered the truth about his watch and opened it; the Master would never have come back into being; the Tardis wouldn't have been stolen; Harold Saxon would never have existed; the Earth would never have been enslaved; the Toclafane would not have come into being and... most of all... the Doctor would never have suffered the indignities and pain that he had suffered.

It was all his fault purely because he had been so damned desperate to see the Doctor once more, and his tormented mind whispered now that that was the reason the Doctor had slipped away and was leaving. Because he blamed him, too...

It wasn't until he actually reached the doors of the Tardis that it occurred to him that the Doctor had not left, and the engines had actually shut down. The doors were thrown open, and Jack collided with the Doctor, saved from falling only by the Doctor's arms wrapped firmly around his waist.

"Jack, what...?"

"Don't go," Jack begged, clinging to the Doctor with a desperation that was utterly unlike him. "Please, don't leave again. I'm sorry... Please, forgive me, I'm sorry..."

The Doctor could only stand there, baffled, as Jack sobbed into his shoulder, holding him in a deathgrip as he did so.

"Sorry for what? Jack, what on earth are you sorry for?"

"For everything," Jack choked out. "My fault... It was all my fault. Utopia... The Master... everything. Please, I'm sorry..."

And then the Doctor understood.

"Ah, Jack... It wasn't your fault," he whispered, hugging him all the more tightly. "None of it was. It was my fault for trying to run away from you again. But I'm not trying to do that now, I promise you."

"But... you're leaving..."

"Yes," the Doctor admitted. "But only because you're better off here, Jack, with _them_."

Slowly, Jack pulled back from the Doctor just enough to look back over his shoulder. There was his team, standing a short distance away and watching with a mixture of fear and concern. Fear, he realised, that he was going to leave them again.

"I don't want to lose you again," Jack whispered, burying his face once more in the Doctor's shoulder. The Doctor sighed softly and began to edge backwards, back into the Tardis.

"C'mon, in you come."

Jack allowed himself to be drawn inside the Tardis, up the ramp and into the familiar warmth of the ship. The Doctor sat him down on the seat, and then went back to the door. The Torchwood team still stood there, and this time the look on their faces was one of burgeoning panic. For a second, he considered shutting the door, and letting them continue to panic, but no. This was Jack's team, and not some incongruous group of twits. Hoping he wasn't making a mistake, he motioned for them to come inside.

* * *

"Excuse me," Gwen murmured as they watched the Doctor urging them forward. "Does he want us to go in there?"

"Apparently," Ianto confirmed, and began to walk forward.

"Ianto, wait!" Tosh hissed. "What if it's some sort of trap?"

Ianto looked back at her, eyebrow raised.

"Trap? Jack is in there! If we stay out here, what's to stop the Doctor from taking him away again? Now, will you all come on?"

Exchanging rueful looks, Gwen, Tosh and Owen followed Ianto through the blue wooden doors.

* * *

"Welcome to the Tardis," the Doctor announced quietly as they walked inside.

"Oh my god, this is amazing," Tosh whispered, her eyes almost comically wide as she looked around. The Doctor smiled, pleased with her astonishment and awe.

"Yes, it is, isn't it?"

Ianto, meanwhile, had made a beeline straight for Jack, sitting beside him and taking one of his hands in his own.

"Jack?"

Slowly, Jack looked up, his attention almost exclusively on the Doctor.

"He's leaving again. Running away from me again."

"You said it yourself, Jack," the Doctor replied. "You belong here, with them. It's got nothing to do with laying blame."

"But..."

"No, stop it. Just stop it. What happened wasn't your fault." He walked over, and placed his hands gently on either side of Jack's head, intending merely to hold his head in place so that Jack would be forced to look him in the eye. What he wasn't expecting was the flood of raw emotion and memories – a lifetime of guilt that Jack had stored away deep within his soul.

He saw Jack's lingering guilt over the incident with the Chula ambulance. He saw his guilt over not holding back the Daleks on the game station... and most recently, his guilt over everything that had happened from the moment he'd grabbed hold of the outside of the Tardis.

"Jack..." the Doctor whispered in dismay. "My Jack..."

"My fault," Jack whispered brokenly as the Doctor pulled him into a fierce embrace. "Always... my fault..."

"No," the Doctor told him. "No, _not_ your fault. Well, maybe that thing with the Chula ambulance was, but you helped to fix that, and believe me, you've redeemed yourself a thousand times over since then. As for the game station... Honestly, what is it with you humans, always having to feel guilty about something? None of that was your fault, and I never expected you to hold back the Daleks indefinitely. Everything that happened then... I was sending you to your death, Jack. I knew it... even Rose knew it. She loved you, Jack. That's why she did what she did. But then, she didn't remember any of it afterwards... and as long as we're making confessions, I have one for you."

Jack, however, already knew, and he spoke tremulously.

"You let her think I was dead."

The Doctor sighed sadly.

"Yes," he admitted simply. "It was easier... for me. If she'd known you weren't dead, she would have demanded that we go back for you, and I was too much of a coward to be willing to face you. If anyone should be sorry, it ought to be me."

"Excuse me, but do you think one of you could tell us what the hell you're talking about?" Owen asked abrasively. The Doctor and Jack stared at each other, and Jack nodded slowly.

"They deserve to know the truth."

The Doctor grunted.

"I don't know about _deserving_, but if that's what you want."

Jack nodded slowly. Yes, that was what he wanted.

"All right, then," the Doctor conceded with a sigh. "Where do you want to start?"

"How about at the beginning?" Owen suggested when Jack hesitated. "Who are you really, Jack?"

"I'm from the fifty-first century," Jack answered quietly, studiously ignoring the stunned look on his people's faces. "I was recruited to be a time agent, and I did that until the sons of bitches stole two years of my memories. After that, I found a ship and took off on my own. I started running cons. I took the identity of a man who died in World War II…"

"The real Captain Jack Harkness," Tosh said softly, and Gwen's eyes widened as she recalled a long-ago conversation with Jack in a pub. Jack nodded in confirmation.

"I took his identity to shield myself from the Time Agency. Don't ask me what my real name is, because I won't tell you. I don't want anyone from the Time Agency catching up to me… especially now."

"So you were a con man for a while," Owen remarked, sounding just a little too smug. Jack glowered at him, though there was no real threat there.

"Yes, I was a con man. It's not exactly a part of my life that I'm proud of, but I had to survive somehow, and no one ever got hurt."

The Doctor coughed conspicuously, and Jack groaned softly.

"All right! I know I screwed up on that last one! You don't have to remind me. I've never forgotten it!"

"What happened?" Ianto asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. The Doctor answered when Jack didn't.

"Jack lured me and my companion at the time to Earth. He dropped a Chula ambulance in the middle of London during the Blitz. A child was caught in the middle of it, though, and killed. The problem was that the ambulance wasn't empty like Jack thought. It was full of nanogenes, and they tried to repair the little boy. They warped his DNA, though, and then went about doing the same thing to everyone he came into contact with. I managed to stop it by introducing the boy's mother into the equation. It was rather brilliant, actually, and for once nobody died."

"Only thanks to Rose," Jack retorted. "Admit it, Doctor. You would have been happy to let me blow up with my ship."

The Doctor smiled placidly.

"So you're still assuming that us swinging by and collecting you from your ship was Rose's idea?"

Jack blinked in surprise.

"Y… You…?"

"I'm not heartless, Jack," the Doctor told him with obvious affection. "You made a mistake, but you redeemed yourself by sticking around and trying to fix it. You could have just taken off and saved your own skin, but you didn't. That alone made your life worth saving." He paused, and then leaned in close to speak to Jack in a low voice that held a world of threat. "Of course, if you _had_ taken off, then you wouldn't have wanted to ever stop running, because I _would_ have found you, and you don't want to know what I would have done then."

Jack stared back at the Doctor, barely breathing as he processed the softly spoken words. An instant later, the ominous look on the Doctor's face was gone, and he grinned cheerfully.

"But you didn't run away, so it's all okay."

"So that's how you met," Ianto murmured, sensing Jack's discomfort, and attempting to move the conversation on. "What happened after that? How did Jack come to be separated from you?"

That time, it was the Doctor's turn to look uncomfortable.

"The game station," he murmured, wanting to cringe at the mere memory.

"It was in the year two hundred-one hundred," Jack said. "We got pulled onto a game station. You know, reality TV game shows…"

"Bloody hell, you're telling us that they still have Big Brother however many years into the future?" Gwen groaned.

"Oh, yes," the Doctor confirmed. He went on with a grim look. "It was the only form of entertainment available… or allowed, for that matter, and people never had a choice over whether they wanted to participate or not. They were just teleported in. That's what happened to us. I was trapped in Big Brother, Rose was on the Weakest Link, and Jack was in…" He paused, frowning slightly. "What _were_ you in, Jack?"

To the interest of all, Jack turned a dull shade of red.

"Never mind. It's not important."

"Oh, no you don't," the Doctor retorted. "You don't get away with that. What did they put you in?"

Jack glared up at him.

"Are you trying to humiliate me?"

"Jack…"

"All right! It was Extreme Makeover."

Owen snorted with ill-suppressed laughter.

"Someone thought you could do with a bit of a touch-up, eh, mate?" he asked, and Jack scowled.

"It wasn't funny at the time. This was reality TV at its most vicious. The whole point of the game station was that the losers didn't _just _lose. They were supposedly evaporated… Except, what was really happening was that they were being teleported to another ship, where they were being transformed into something else entirely. But those makeover robots… they would have killed me."

"And how would that have been worse than what happened later on?" the Doctor asked soberly. Jack smiled wanly.

"And miss out on all that fun? You know me, Doctor. Can't keep me away from a good fight."

"So what happened?" Tosh asked breathlessly. Jack hesitated, and then went on quietly.

"It was the Daleks behind it all. Their emperor escaped the Time War, and spent hundreds of years building an army. That's what really became of the game station losers. They were turned into Daleks."

"Daleks?" Ianto echoed, the horror audible in his voice. "You mean like the ones at Canary Wharf?"

The Doctor nodded, trying to ignore the painful memories that were dredged up with those two fateful words.

"Yes, like that. I had a plan to get rid of them, but I needed time. Jack took charge of the defense. He took with him anyone who was willing to fight in an effort to hold the Daleks back."

"That would have been like trying to stop the tide," Ianto said grimly, thinking back to the Daleks who had appeared at the battle of Canary Wharf. Jack nodded in agreement, and none could miss the haunted look in his eyes as he recounted what happened.

"It was. I had maybe twenty people all together, and I watched them die one by one until I was the only one left. I was left facing three Daleks, with no ammunition. Never had a chance. They exterminated me."

"When you offered me the job with Torchwood," Gwen said suddenly. "You said you were killed once. That's what you meant, isn't it?"

"Yes," Jack confirmed. "I was killed by the Daleks."

"So what happened?" Owen asked with a frown. "How did you come back to life? More importantly, how did you come to be the way you are now?"

"My companion, Rose," the Doctor explained. "I sent her home in the Tardis to keep her safe, but she came back. She opened the heart of the Tardis and absorbed the Time Vortex. She destroyed the Daleks, and she brought Jack back to life, but she wasn't able to control the power, and she brought him back permanently."

"You're saying he's going to live _forever_?" Tosh asked, eyes wide with shock. The Doctor shrugged.

"Don't know. Maybe. 'Course, we don't know what would happen if he was, say, dismembered…"

"And I'm not planning on finding out any time soon," Jack added in a warning tone. A ripple of laughter swept across the team, and even Jack had to smile slightly.

"Wow," Gwen whispered finally as the team tried to absorb all they'd been told.

"Jack, if you don't mind us asking," Ianto said tentatively, "how old _are_ you? Really…"

"Honestly, I don't know precisely how old I am," Jack mused. "But I think I'm around a hundred and seventy years old."

"And looking good, don't you think?" the Doctor threw in with a smirk, echoing Jack's own words. Another ripple of laughter swept through the Tardis. This time, Jack laughed softly in response.

Any further conversation was stymied, though, when Ianto's mobile phone suddenly beeped shrilly. Frowning slightly, he pulled it out to check the incoming message before looking back up at Jack.

"There's a weevil alert. One is apparently on the loose in central Cardiff."

Jack looked down at Ianto's phone in interest.

"You have your phone set up to receive alerts?"

"It seemed the logical thing to do," Ianto answered simply.

"Mm, you've got a smart one here, Jack," the Doctor remarked, and Jack smiled.

"I know that. They're all smart… if slightly stubborn," he added with a grin that was more reminiscent of old. He paused, and then got somewhat reluctantly to his feet. "We have to go and deal with this. Will you… still be here when we come back?"

The Doctor was grinning widely himself by then.

"As a matter of fact, I think I might come with you. Perfect opportunity to see how the new Torchwood operates. What d'you say, Jack?"

Jack had no hope of hiding his enthusiasm, and the grin that was plastered across his face reminded the Doctor almost painfully of when he'd first met a young, headstrong and carefree con man back in the London Blitz.

"We'll be glad to have you along," Jack answered. And then, to his team he added, "Let's move, people!"

* * *

_tbc..._


	6. A Disturbing Discovery

A/N: _No, I haven't disappeared off the face of the Earth. I only wish. Seriously, circumstances have conspired to keep me from both working on and updating this particular story (and every other story I have on the go at the moment). I had planned to post this chapter before Christmas, but I had disc malfunctions. Don't ask._

_Here is the new chapter now, and I will have a new chapter of "Another World" up soon as well, thanks to the help of a fellow fic writer. In the meantime, enjoy..._

_ps, much Jack/Ianto slashiness in this chapter, and I had a LOT of fun writing it._

* * *

It was a curious experience for Jack, to be the one leading the way for a change while the Doctor appeared to simply be tagging along. Although, Jack knew well enough that that was a fallacy. The Doctor had never merely 'tagged along' anywhere, at any time, and Jack knew that he was being carefully observed to see how he dealt with this situation. It was an unnerving experience, he thought ruefully; like being the new star recruit to the Time Agency, with his superiors and co-recruits all watching him, just waiting for him to screw up.

They headed back to the Hub to gear up, and Jack couldn't help but notice the way the Doctor stood back and observed with a critical gaze. It was only when Jack collected a fresh round of ammunition for his Webley, though, that the Doctor spoke disapprovingly.

"For someone who used to be so proud of his sonic blaster, I'm not sure whether that thing is a step up or a step down."

Jack paused, eyeing his gun and then raising an eyebrow in the Doctor's direction.

"Well, since you _accidentally_ left my blaster behind on Cyrus 12 right as it was about to get sucked into a black hole, and I can't get another one anytime soon, I had to find an alternative."

"So you picked something that was actually designed to kill," came the scathing remark. Jack shrugged unapologetically.

"I like the Webley. It has character."

The Doctor snorted derisively.

"Character. Guns don't have character, Jack. We're going to have a little chat about this weapons fetish of yours before I go."

Jack only smirked, and holstered the gun. It sat comfortably on his hip, and he knew that no matter what the Doctor said, he would never give up his precious Webley.

"Tosh, have you got a location?" he asked, striding over to where she sat at her computer. It felt good to finally have something to focus on; something to distract him, however briefly, from the awful memories that were never far from the surface of his mind. He suspected that his team were guessing something similar, from the way they were enthusiastically going about their individual tasks, as though for just a short while they could shut out a different, bleaker reality.

Tosh nodded in answer, shifting a little so that he could see the monitor clearly. She hated having anyone looking over her shoulder, but just this once she didn't mind making an exception… providing Jack didn't make a habit of it.

"Yes. It appears to be in central Cardiff. It doesn't seem to be on the move at the moment."

Jack slapped his palms together.

"Okay. Let's go catch ourselves a weevil."

* * *

Tosh volunteered to remain at the Hub, clearing the way for Ianto to go with them, but Jack only laughed and took the liberty of shifting some unnecessary pieces of equipment out of the SUV, making room for a sixth person to travel with them.

Ianto tried to offer the front passenger seat to the Doctor, but he declined, instead clambering into the very back of the SUV like an over-exuberant schoolboy. The others appeared bemused, but Jack knew instantly why the Doctor had chosen that particular vantage point in the vehicle. The Time Lord wasn't just observing Jack – he was observing the whole team.

Jack drove, and for a brief while it seemed like old times, back before the Master… before Abaddon… before all of it. He floored the accelerator, relishing the squeal of the brakes, and the way that all passengers had to hang on for dear life to avoid being thrown against each other as he took corners at breakneck speed.

"Blimey, Jack," the Doctor burst out as the SUV finally screeched to a halt in a relatively quiet corner of city. "Exactly where did you learn to drive again?"

"We keep asking him that exact same question," Owen remarked as they piled out of the SUV. "And he keeps ignoring us."

The Doctor lifted an eyebrow at Jack as he straightened his coat.

"And to think I let you help me fly the Tardis…"

"I've never crashed yet," Jack said with absolute confidence.

"First time for everything," the Doctor muttered. Grinning, Jack looked back at Tosh.

"Has it moved?"

Tosh looked up at Jack slowly, and for the first time he spotted a hint of worry in her eyes.

"No, it hasn't moved at all. According to the readings, it's approximately seventy-five metres in that direction… Just around the corner, at a point where three back alleys intersect. I don't like this, Jack. Weevils never stay stationary for this long. It's unnatural for them."

The look on Jack's face suggested he was thinking much the same thing, but he chose not to voice those concerns right then.

"Okay, let's split up. There are three different ways in, there are six of us. Gwen, you and the Doctor take the east side, Owen, you and Tosh take the north side, and Ianto and I will cover the west side. Keep your earpieces on, people, and be careful. Let's move."

He was off and running, with Ianto close behind almost before the others even realised it.

"Like he said," the Doctor said with a glint in his eyes, "let's move, shall we?"

* * *

"I would have thought you'd keep the Doctor with you," Ianto said breathlessly as he lengthened his strides to keep up with Jack.

Jack smiled faintly as he slowed to a walk at the west end entrance to the alleys.

"I have to let him go some time," he said quietly as they walked into the shadowy alley together. "I know that. You, on the other hand…"

Ianto grunted as he suddenly found himself flattened against a wall, with Jack's body pressing hard against his own.

"Jack, what are you…?"

"You I have no intention of ever letting go," Jack murmured, and promptly put an end to any protests Ianto might have made by sealing his mouth firmly across the Welshman's.

Beyond the undeniable pleasure Ianto felt at the realisation that Jack was consciously choosing him over the Doctor, he could sense something else, something much deeper and darker. There was a real desperation in that kiss, an unspoken plea for help. Ianto responded in the only way he knew how; he clutched at Jack's arms and returned the kiss with fervour, trying to convey his own love, loyalty and support through the physical embrace.

When Jack finally broke off the kiss and moved back a little, Ianto was quietly relieved to see that the raw despair had faded just a little, to a bearable level. Maybe, Ianto mused as they began to move again towards their target, just maybe there was some hope to be found after all.

* * *

"You never answered our question," Gwen said flatly once they were out of earshot of everyone. She took care to adjust her earpiece before speaking, so that anything said now wouldn't be overheard, and potentially misunderstood. The Doctor glanced at her with an unnerving curiosity as they trotted along the alley.

"Really? What question was that, then?"

"Ianto asked how Jack came to be separated from you. You never answered him."

"Neither did Jack," the Doctor pointed out. Gwen, however, would not be deflected.

"Ianto asked _you_."

The Doctor looked away, and Gwen knew he had no intention of answering. Fine, she decided. Time to put her own skills to use.

"When I first met Jack, he talked about finding a doctor. The right kind of doctor, he said, who could help him to figure things out. Obviously he was talking about you."

"Was he?" the Doctor asked vaguely. Gwen ignored what she now knew was purely an act to put her off.

"He used to travel with you… but when I joined, he was trying to find you… to get answers about why he couldn't die…"

Gwen slowed to a halt as the pieces fell into place inside her own mind.

"You left him behind."

The Doctor stopped a few paces ahead, not turning around to face her. Gwen, however, knew she was right without having to look at his expression.

"I'm right, aren't I? You abandoned him on that satellite! You abandoned Jack!"

Slowly, the Doctor turned to face her. Any signs of levity were gone now, and Gwen found herself wanting to run and hide from the depths that she could suddenly see in his brown eyes.

"Yes," the Doctor admitted quietly. "I ran away from him. After Rose did what she did to him, I couldn't get away from him fast enough. Is that what you wanted to hear, Gwen Cooper?"

"How could you?" Gwen choked out, tears filling her eyes as she tried with little success to imagine how devastating it must have been for Jack to be abandoned like that. "All that crap about how much you care about him, what was that? Just a show? Just a game?"

"No," the Doctor replied soberly. "It wasn't a game. I do care about Jack. I care about him a lot… more than I ever thought I could, and it nearly broke my hearts to run away from him like that, but I didn't have a choice."

Gwen started to argue, but she was silenced when the Doctor suddenly strode towards her and clamped his hand firmly over her mouth.

"Stop it. Just stop it. What happened on that satellite is between me and Jack, and we've worked through it. I avoided Ianto's question because I don't need to be going over something that we've already resolved, and neither does Jack. Yes, I _did_ abandon him, and I can't change that… even with a time machine, I can't change it. Jack knows it, and he's accepted it. I think it's time the rest of you did as well."

Gwen pulled roughly out of his grip, her expression hard and angry.

"The worst thing that could ever happen to a person is to be left behind by the people who are supposed to love them and take care of them, and that's exactly what you did to Jack. How are we supposed to accept that?"

Incredibly, a small smile touched the Doctor's lips.

"I can see why he thinks so much of you, Gwen Cooper. Just as pig-headed as he is."

Chuckling, he turned and strolled off up the alley. Gwen watched him go in frustration before shaking her head and hurrying after him.

* * *

Owen and Tosh were already on the scene when Jack, Ianto, Gwen and the Doctor arrived.

"Nice of you lot to turn up," Owen said dryly. "Tosh and I were starting to think we'd have to have the party on our own."

Jack approached slowly, his gaze fixed on the sight at Owen's feet, feeling his stomach start to roll ominously.

"Well," Ianto stated uncomfortably after a long silence, "we found the weevil."

Their target lay on the ground at Owen's feet, battered, bloody and an almost unrecognisable mess, even for a weevil.

"Is it…?" Jack started to ask.

"Dead?" Owen queried. "Very. Can't say for sure how long it's been dead for. Definitely couldn't give you a cause of death yet."

Jack glanced around as the Doctor came to stand beside him, his very posture radiating a familiar fury as he stared at the creature's abused body.

"We need to find out what did this to it, Jack," he said softly. Jack nodded in agreement.

"We will. We'll find them, and deal with them. I promise."

* * *

The trip back to the Hub was made in silence. Owen and the Doctor crowded into the back of the vehicle with the weevil's body, each one observing the creature's body in silence. Upon arrival back at the Hub, they carried the weevil into the medical area, where Owen immediately began to set up for the autopsy.

"Mind if I stay?" the Doctor queried, speaking in a tone that suggested he intended to stay whether Owen minded or not. Owen, however, shook his head.

"Not at all, Doctor. Had much experience with weevils?"

"None at all," the Doctor answered, circling the body with a thoughtful gaze. "I'm a fast learner, though."

Owen snorted.

"Yeah, I'll bet you are." His gaze went up to where Jack, Ianto, Tosh and Gwen were standing. "And in the meantime, the rest of you can just bugger off. Jack, I'll call you when I have something to tell you."

Jack chuckled, although it was a forced sound.

"Okay. C'mon, people. Paperwork time."

The sounds of groaning were lost on both Owen and the Doctor, who were both already engrossed in the task before them. It was only once Jack was well out of earshot, though, that the Doctor spoke up in a much more sombre tone.

"Well, Dr Harper, what do you think?"

Owen looked up grimly.

"I didn't want to say it in front of Jack, but this weevil was tortured to death."

The Doctor nodded approvingly.

"Very good. So the task, therefore…"

"Is to find something that will point to the killer," Owen concluded. He picked up a scanner that would allow him to see all the weevil's injuries, both internal and external, without so much as picking up a scalpel. He caught the curious look the Doctor was giving him, and smiled tightly. "We prefer the non-invasive methods when possible. Less blood and guts to clean up afterwards."

"Non-invasive," the Doctor echoed approvingly. "I like that. I like it very much. All right, then, Doctor Harper, let's get started, shall we?"

* * *

Jack made a pretence of doing paperwork for perhaps five or ten minutes before finally conceding that it was useless even trying to concentrate. Tossing his pen onto the desk, he instead swung around in his chair to look at the wall. He wished he had a normal office; one that had a window with a view, but something like that came with a normal job… and that was something he would never have.

It wasn't that he hadn't ever had what humans generally regarded as a normal job – no, during the hundred and thirty-eight years he'd had to live on Earth, he had indeed had a regular office job at one stage. It had been in the early 1930s… 1934, if he remembered correctly… in between the wars. A little out of the way company in London, and his job had been overseeing requisitions.

He'd lasted a total of three months in the position, and had been so utterly and mind-numbingly bored that in the end he'd shot himself in the head just to get out it. Not a bad way out of a dead-end job, he'd thought at the time, although fighting his way out of one of those locked drawers at the local morgue had been a pain in the ass. And then, that was when Torchwood One had more or less discovered him.

Jack grimaced at the memory. That had been a thoroughly unpleasant five years, and had it not been for the outbreak of World War II, he may never have gotten away. As it was, some patriotic soul in the organisation at the time thought it would benefit England to have an immortal soldier, and set him free.

He'd had no qualms about fighting, but he knew he had to get out of London to avoid running into either himself or the Doctor and Rose at that stage. As badly as he'd wanted to find the Doctor again, it would have been next to useless to go chasing after him at that point. Not only would he not have gotten the answers he wanted, he would also have risked creating a paradox that could have ripped open the fabric of time.

No, he had to wait a while longer for his answers, and so he'd claimed some sort of ill health to avoid being drafted and fled London to go to the countryside, ending up in a small coastal town where he instead joined the home guard so as to avoid drawing attention to himself as a coward who was afraid to go to war.

Not that being with the home guard had been without its dangers, of course, and Jack had found his inability to die being put to the test multiple times thanks to minor raids by German squads. It was during that time, though, that he had met and fallen in love with Estelle.

Jack shook his head, as if to force those memories back into the farthest reaches of his mind. The last thing he needed right then was to shake out _those_ particular cobwebs.

So lost in though was he that he didn't realise he was no longer alone until a hand alighted on his shoulder. Startled back to reality, he looked up to find Ianto standing there, watching him with a familiar concerned gaze.

"Are you all right, sir?"

"Fine," Jack murmured, embarrassed at being caught 'spacing out', as Rose might have one put it. He looked up at Ianto questioningly. "How long were you trying to get my attention?"

"Only a minute, sir. You've been in here for over an hour, though, and you haven't even started on your paperwork."

With a start, Jack realised Ianto was right. Though it felt to him like no time had passed since he'd walked into his office, in reality over an hour had gone by.

"Is Owen done yet?" he asked, hoping vainly to shift the topic. Ianto answered with a brisk shake of his head.

"Not yet, although I suspect they won't be long. Jack, what were you thinking about just then?"

Jack fought the urge to frown at Ianto's tactics. If the younger man had called him 'sir', he would have been able to just brush it off. In calling him 'Jack', though, Ianto had made it just that much more personal, and Jack couldn't ignore him. He slumped back in his seat, not quite able to bring himself to smile.

"Just daydreaming," he admitted softly. Ianto paused, and then sat down gingerly on the edge of the desk.

"About what?"

A part of Jack wanted to yell at Ianto, to tell him to mind his own business and leave him alone, but a much bigger part of him wanted the company and the understanding and kindness that Ianto offered even more, and before he knew it he'd started talking.

"About having a normal life… a normal job… about just being a normal human being."

Despite his sympathy towards Jack, Ianto still couldn't suppress his amusement at the thought of Jack attempting to hold a normal job. Jack caught the tiny smirk that crossed the Welshman's lips, and felt a spark of irritation mixed with his own self-deprecation.

"I know," he muttered. "It's as ridiculous as it sounds."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Ianto mused. "It would depend on what sort of job you were thinking about, wouldn't it?"

"What are you thinking of?" Jack asked, while wondering at the same time whether he was an idiot for even asking. The cheeky grin that lit up Ianto's face confirmed his fears.

"I think you'd make quite a good housewife. I've seen you in an apron, after all."

Jack eyed Ianto incredulously for a long moment before the absurdity of it overcame him, and he burst out laughing. Ianto didn't laugh outright, but the smile on his face clearly said 'mission accomplished'. Feeling the weight of everything lift from his shoulders just briefly, Jack reached up and pulled Ianto down onto his lap, quickly capturing the Welshman's lips with his own.

"Thankyou," he murmured after a lingering kiss. "Not just for that. For everything. For being you… and being here."

Ianto threaded his fingers lightly through Jack's hair and smiled affectionately at him.

"I don't expect the same from you, but I have to say it. I love you, Jack."

He fully expected Jack to freeze, or to pull back at the admission. To his surprise, it didn't happen. Instead, he found himself caught in an almost crushing embrace, and the breath all but sucked out of him as Jack kissed him ferociously. And then, when they finally parted once more, Jack whispered a reply that Ianto, in his dazed state, very nearly missed.

"I love you, too, Ianto."

Ianto found himself staring into a pair of pale blue eyes that welled with unshed tears, and the gravity of what they had just admitted to each other was just starting to sink in when there was an embarrassed cough in the doorway.

They both looked to see Gwen standing there, looking redder by the second. Ianto spoke in a calm voice that completely belied the butterflies in his stomach, while making no effort at all to dislodge himself from Jack's lap.

"What is it, Gwen?"

For a split second, she could only gape at them before snapping back to reality and stammering out what she'd come up to tell them.

"Owen asked me to get you. He said you weren't responding on your earpiece. They… uh… They're ready for us."

Ianto felt the tension, which had previously bled out of the captain during their intimate moment, suddenly return with a vengeance.

"We'll be right there, Gwen," Jack told her tensely. She nodded, and backed rapidly out the door. Ianto slid off Jack's lap, and stepped back to allow Jack to stand up and straighten himself out.

"Better get down there," Jack muttered, sounding as though he wanted to do anything but. Ianto eyed him with open worry.

"Will you…"

"Don't," Jack cut him off. "Please, Ianto, don't ask if I'll be okay. I know you mean well, but it just doesn't help."

Ianto smiled faintly.

"Actually, sir, I was about to ask, will you be wanting a cup of coffee ready for you when you come back to your office?"

Jack had to smile. They both knew damned well that Ianto hadn't been about to say anything of the like, but it was a slick switch regardless.

"That'd be great. Thankyou."

Ianto nodded as he followed Jack out.

"My pleasure, sir."

* * *

"You're done, then?" Jack asked brusquely as he strode up to the railing on the observation level of the medical area. Owen looked briefly as though he wanted to make a snide remark in response to the needless question, only to catch a look from the Doctor. Instead, he nodded and answered seriously.

"Just finished."

"It was tortured to death, right?" Jack asked when Owen hesitated in going on. The young medic looked slightly uncomfortable, but nodded anyway.

"Yeah, it was. It was pretty brutal, too. Broken bones, internal damage, on top of what you can see on the outside… Even if it had still been alive when we got to it, we couldn't have saved it."

"Do we have any idea what did this?" Tosh asked.

"We may have a starting point," Owen answered. "It looks like the killer decided to leave his own personal mark. Jack, you want to come down and take a look at this?"

Despite a powerful urge to say no, Jack nonetheless headed down the steps and over to stand beside Owen.

"What am I looking at, Owen?"

"Well, you can't really see it, because the flesh has been burned, but I took a digital shot, and enhanced the image. Check it out…"

Jack looked to the laptop screen on the table to see a distinct and unnatural mark on the weevil's body that seemed separate to the multitudes of other injuries that could be found on the creature.

"What the hell _is_ that?" Gwen wondered as she observed it on the larger screen along with Tosh and Ianto.

"It's a definite letter 'T'," Owen said grimly. "It looks like it's been branded onto the weevil's body."

On the other side of the table, the Doctor had been silent up until this point, intent as he was on watching Jack. As Owen spoke, though, the Doctor watched as the colour bled from Jack's face and he started to slowly back away from the weevil's mutilated body.

"Jack?" he asked quietly.

Jack's eyes snapped up to meet the Doctor's concerned gaze, and it was all the Doctor could do not to physically flinch at the horror that he saw there in the other man's gaze. For several seconds, Jack appeared to be frozen, locked in place purely by the power of the Doctor's stare. Then, the Doctor took a step forward, and his paralysis broke. Wheeling around, he fled up the steps and out of the medical area.

* * *

_tbc..._


End file.
